DOS CARLOS, 



INFANTE OF SPAIN; 

A DRAMATIC POEM, 



IN FIVE ACTS; 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 



OF 



SCHILLER. 

BY 

CHARLES HERBERT COTTRELL, Esq. 



BARNET : 

PRINTED BY J. J. COWING. 

LONDON: 
LONGMAN, BROWN; GREEN AND LONGMAN, 

1843. 




DEDICATION 



HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS 

PRINCE ALBERT OF SAXE COBURG 
GOTHA, &c. &c. &c. 



Sir, 

The gracious permission which Your 
Royal Highness has been pleased to accord 
me of dedicating to you the following pages, 
emboldens me to indulge a hope that they may 
find some favour from the public under the 
shelter of your illustrious patronage. If Your 
Royal Highness had no other claim to the 
gratitude of this nation, your protection of the 
Arts, and literature in general, would call it 
forth in an eminent degree. The period from 
which the increased cultivation of the living 
languages and especially of that one which 
we had begun to forget was the mother of our 



DEDICATION. 

own, is dated, will hereafter be fixed from 
the day when Your Royal Highness called the 
attention of the rising generation to the ad- 
vantage of such a study, by awakening a 
spirit of emulation in that department of polite 
literature, for the first time, at Eton College. 
1 may therefore be pardoned, Sir, in flattering 
myself that my attempt to transfer into a 
kindred dialect one of the noblest works of 
one of the greatest poets that Germany or any 
other country has ever produced, may not be 
wholly unsuccessful under the auspices of such 
a Maecenas. 

I am, Sir, 
Your Royal Highnesss 

most obliged and obedient 
humble Servant, 
Charles Herbert Cottrell. 



PREFACE. 



Much has been written on the character of 
Don Carlos, heir apparent of the mysterious 
Philip II. of Spain. Research, however, has 
produced nothing very satisfactory as to his 
connexion with the revolt of the Netherlands, 
or the intrigues which occasioned his confine- 
ment and subsequently his death. Still less au- 
thority is there for his reported passion for the 
Queen, and his father's jealousy. The fact, 
however, of his having been betrothed to her, 
might not unnaturally irritate a youth of violent 
temper, and would give a fair colouring to 
such a supposition. To criticise the plot of 
the dramatic poem which Schiller has com- 
posed upon these data, and to compare it, 
historically speaking, with others written on 
the same subject in different languages and at 
different periods, would exceed the ordinary 
limits of a preface. Suffice it to enquire how 
far he has followed or violated the laws of the 



iv. PREFACE. 

Aristotelian drama. The facts simply are, 
that Schiller wrote the first two acts, which 
were published separately; and that a con- 
siderable period elapsed before he added the 
three others. It is said, that he found in the 
archives at Dresden, which he was examining 
in search of documents relative to the revolt 
of the Netherlands, some among them which 
bore upon the history and character of Don 
Carlos, and induced him to alter the plot of 
the play; a circumstance that laid him open 
to the charge of want of unity in its develop- 
ment, and of having sacrificed Don Carlos, the 
hero of the first two acts, to the Marquis 
Posa, who plays the most prominent part in 
the three subsequent ones. He has himself 
pleaded guilty, in part, to the accusation; ex- 
cusing himself by the interruptions which 
occurred in the completion of it, and ob- 
serving that the time employed in a work of 
this description ought not to exceed a single 
summer. He has, however, so completely 
disarmed and refuted the criticisms made up- 
on it in other particulars, that it would be 
superfluous as well as presumptuous in me, to 
offer any apology for a work of so distinguish- 
ed talent. The grandeur of the ideas and 
the sublimity of the language which prevail 



PREFACE. v. 

throughout the poem, speak too loudly for 
themselves, and are too universally acknow- 
ledged, to require any comment. I am fully 
aware how difficult, and perhaps impossible,*it 
is to do justice in a translation to any original 
so full of poetry of the highest order as Schil- 
ler's Don Carlos. Inadequate as 1 cannot but 
feel I am to accomplish it successfully, my 
object has been to bring it more into the notice 
of English readers, and in so doing to adhere 
as literally as possible to the text of the author. 
1 trust, therefore, that the public will make 
allowance for my defects of language, and 
want of harmony in the rhythm, where 1 have 
been obliged to sacrifice it in order to pre- 
serve the identity of the original. 



DON CARLOS, 

INFANTE OF SPAIN; 

A DRAMATIC POEM. 



DRAMATIS PERSON/E. 



Philip II, King of Spain. 
Elizabeth of Valois, his Wife, 
Don Carlos, the Crown Prince. 

AlexanderFarnese, Prince of Parma, the King' s Nephew. 
The Infanta Clara Eugenia, a child of three years old. 
The Duchess Olivarez, first Lady. 
Marchioness Mondekar, ) 
Princess Eboli, > Ladies of the Queen. 

Countess Fuentes, 3 
Marquis Posa, a Knight of Malta, 
Duke Alba, 

Count Lerma, Colonel of the Body Guard, 
Duke Feria, Knight of the Golden Fleece, 
Duke Medina Sidonia, Admiral, 
Don Raymond of Taxis, Postmaster-general, 
Domingo, the King's Confessor. 
The Grand Inquisitor of the Kingdom. 
The Prior of a Carthusian Convent. 
Queen's Page. 

Don Louis Merkado, the Queen's private Physician. 
Several Ladies and Grandees. 
Pages. 
Officers. 

The Body Guard and various other persons. 



Grandees 
0/ 
Spain. 



DON CARLOS. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. — The Royal Garden in Aranjuez, 
Carlos. Domingo. 

DOMINGO. 

The summer days in Aranjuez now 

Are come to a close. Your Royal Highness 

Leaves it not in better spirits. In vain 

Have we been here. Break this mysterious silence : 

Open your heart, Prince, to a father's heart. 

Too dear his son's repose — his only son's — 

Whate'er the price, the monarch cannot buy. 

(Carlos looks on the ground in silence) 
Is there a wish ungratified which Heav'n 
Denies to one the dearest of its sons '? 
I stood thereby when in Toledo's walls, 
The haughty Carl receiv'd their homages, 
As Princes crowded on to kiss his hand. 
And now at once six kingdoms at his feet 
Lay prostrate. And I saw the young high blood 
Mount in his cheeks, his noble bosom swell 
With princely resolutions ; saw his eye 
O'ercharg'd with joy the whole assembly scan, 
And with that glance confess his satisfaction. 

(Carlos turns away) 
This solemn, silent anguish, Prince, which we 
Read in your countenance these eight months past, 



10 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I. 



The riddle of the court, the kingdom's pain, 
Full many nights of anxious care has cost 
His Majesty — full many tears your mother. 

carlos. (turns hastily round) 
Mother! 0! Heaven, grant I may forgive 
The man who made me call her mother ! 

DOMINGO. 

Prince ! 

carlos. (considers and passes his hand over his 
forehead) 
Right-worthy sir — I'm most unfortunate 
In what regards my mothers. My first act 
Was, as I drew new-born the light of day, 
A mother's murder. 

DOMINGO. 

Is it possible? 
Can this reproach disturb your conscience, Prince? 

CARLOS. 

And my new mother — has she not already 
Cost me my father's love ? My father scarce 
Began to love me. All my merit was 
To be his only child; and she has borne 
A daughter to him. O! who can foresee 
Events which slumber in the womb of time ? 

DOMINGO. 

You mock me, Prince. All Spain adores her Queen 

Should you alone with eye of hate look on her? 

Listen to prudence only in her sight ? 

How, Prince ? The fairest dame in all this world — 

The Queen too she — and formerly your bride? 

Impossible! Incredible! Prince! Never! 

Carl cannot hate alone, where all adore; 

Carlos can never contradict himself 

So strangely. Prince, beware she ever learn 

How much she has incurr'd her son's dislike; 

The news would wound her deeply. 



scene i. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



11 



CARLOS. 

Think you so? 

DOMINGO. 

If still your Highness call to recollection 

The recent tournament at Saragossa, 

Where a lance-splinter graz'd our Sovereign — 

The Queen surrounded by her ladies sat 

Upon the centre tribune of the palace, 

And watch'd the onset. Suddenly they cried, 

" The King is wounded ! " — All press eager on, 

And the low murmur reach'd her Royal ear. 

" The Prince ? " she screams, and from the balustrade, 

The topmost balustrade would throw herself, 

" The King himself" they answer — " Let them fetch 

The surgeons ! " she replied, as she drew breath. 

(after a pause) 

You are considering! 

CARLOS. 

I am admiring 
The King's facetious confessor, who is 
So conversant with witty stories. 

(Seriously and austerely) 
I 

Have heard it oft remarked, that talebearers 
And those who watch the change of countenance, 
Have work'd more mischief in this world of ours, 
Than poison or the dagger e'er could do. 
Your pains, Sir, may be spar'd. If you expect 
Thanks, go you to the King. 

DOMINGO. 

You act, my Prince, 
Wisely, to be upon your guard with men — 
But you should know how to discriminate. 
A friend repulse not with the hypocrite ; 
I mean you well. 

B 2 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT f. 



CARLOS. 

Then let my father not 
Observe it. Otherwise you lose the Purple. 

DOMINGO. 

How? 

CARLOS. 

Yes now. Has he not made you a promise 
Of the first Purple in the gift of Spain? 

DOMINGO. 

You mock me, Prince. 

CARLOS. 

No ! God forbid, I mock 
The awful man, who has the pow'r to bless 
And curse my father. 

DOMINGO. 

I will not presume 
Within the sanctum of your privacy 
T'intrude myself, Prince. I would only beg 
Your Highness to be mindful, that the Church 
For consciences the most disturb'd, provides 
A refuge, of which monarchs have no key. 
Where crimes themselves find a retreat beneath 
The sacramental seal — You understand me, 
Prince! I have said enough. 

CARLOS. 

No ! far be it 
From me to tempt the keeper of that seal. 

DOMINGO. 

Prince, this mistrust — You do misapprehend 
Your most devoted servant. 

carlos. (takes him by the hand) 
Give me up 
The rather then. You are a holy man, 
The world knows that — but to be candid with you — 
For me you're now too zealous, and your path 
Is very toilsome, right worthy Father, 



scene I. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



V3 



Until you sit you down on Peter's seat. 

Much knowledge may o'ercome you. Mention this 

Unto his Majesty who sent you here. 

DOMINGO. 

Who sent me here ? 

CARLOS. 

So said I. O ! too well, 
Too well I know that in this very Court 
1 am betray'd — I know, a hundred eyes 
Are hir'd to watch me, that King Philip sold 
His only son unto his vilest slave. 
Full well I know that ev'ry syllable 
That falls from me a messenger reports, 
Which service he more lavishly rewards, 
Than he as yet e'er did for virtuous deeds. 
I know — O ! still ! No more of it. My heart 
Will overflow, I've said too much already. 

DOMINGO. 

The King intends to reach Madrid by daylight. 
The Court already is assembling, Prince, 
Have I the honour — 

CARLOS. 

Very good. I follow. 
(Domingo retires, After a pause) 
O ! piteous Philip, piteous as thy son ! — 
I see thy soul already bleeding with 
Suspicion's foul envenom'd serpent-sting ; 
Thy hapless fatal curiosity 
Hastens the fearfullest discovery, 
And when thou'st made it, it will madden thee ! 



14 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. I. 



SCENE II. 
Carlos, Marquis Posa. 

CARLOS. 

Who comes? — What see I ? O ! good Genii, 
My Roderick! 

MARQUIS. 

My Carlos ! 

CARLOS. 

Can it be? 

Is 't true? Is 't really true? Is 't thou?— Tis thou! 

I press thee to my bosom, I feel thine 

All powerfully beat against my own. 

O! now all's well again. In this embrace 

My wounded heart is heal'd, I hang upon 

My Roderick's neck. 

MARQUIS. 

Your wounded — wounded heart? 
And what is well again? What needed cure? 
You startle me. 

CARLOS. 

And what has brought thee back 
So unexpectedly from Brussels ? Whom ? 
Whom do I thank for this surprise? Whom? Whom? 
Still do I ask? Forgive one drunk with joy, 
Great Providence, this blasphemy ! Whom else, 
Whom else but thee, All mightiest? Thou knew'st 
That Carlos had no guardian Angel, thou 
Sentest me this, and do I ask again? 

MARQUIS. 

Forgive, dear Prince, if I but ill repay 
These boist'rous transports with astonishment. 
I did not think to find Don Philip's son 
In such a mood. Your pale and hollow cheeks 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



15 



Are lighted up, unnaturally red, 

And your lips quiver with a fev'rish heat, 

What must I think, dear Prince? — This cannot be 

The lion-hearted youth, to whom I'm sent 

By noble spirits in oppression sunk — 

For I stand not before you now as Roderick, 

Not as the playfellow of boyish Carl — 

But as the deputy of human kind 

Do I embrace you — 'tis all Flanders weeps 

Upon your neck and stirs you to their rescue. 

That well-beloved land is lost, if Aiba, 

The ruthless agent of fanaticism, 

Marches on Brussels with his Spanish laws. 

The last surviving hope of that bold land 

Rests on the Grandson of the Emperor Carl. 

It perishes, should his exalted soul 

Have lost the pow'r to aid humanity. 

CARLOS. 

It perishes. 

MARQUIS. 

Ah! me! What do I hear? 

CARLOS. 

Thou speak'st of times, which long are pass'd away. 

I too have dream'd once of a certain Carl, 

Whose cheeks were heated with a sudden fire 

Whene'er they spoke of liberty — But he 

Is long entomb' d. He, thou beholdest here, 

Is not that Carl who took his leave of thee 

In Alcala, who swore presumptuously 

In sweet intoxication, to create 

A new and golden aera here in Spain — 

The thought was childish, but divinely fair. 

These dreams are past. — 

MARQUIS. 

Dreams, Prince! — Were they but dreams? 



10 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. I. 



CARLOS. 

Ah ! let me weep, and on thy bosom shed 

A flood of burning tears, my only friend. 

I possess none — none — none on this wide earth. 

In the broad realms my father's sceptre sways, 

Th' expanse of waters where our flag 's unfurl'd: 

There is no place — none else — where I could dare 

By tears to lighten my o'erburden'd soul. 

I charge thee, Roderick, by all that thou 

And I hereafter hope in Heav'n above, 

Dispel me not from this beloved spot ! 

{The Marquis bends over him in speechless emotion) 

CARLOS. 

Persuade thyself I am an orphan child, 

Whom thy compassion rais'd up by the throne. 

Truly I know not what a father means — 

I am a King's son. — O ! should it occur, 

What my heart whispers, should'st thou be alone 

'Mong millions found to understand my state ; 

Should it be true, that nature's parent hand 

In Carlos recreated Roderick, 

And in the morning of our life awoke 

The sympathetic chord which joins our souls, 

! if the tear which mitigates my grief 

Be dearer to thee than my father's smiles — 

MARQUIS. 

'Tis dearer far than all the world besides. 

CARLOS. 

So low I'm fallen, and so poor I'm grown, 
That I must conjure up our childhood's years — 
That I must sue thee to discharge the debts 
Forgotten long, in infancy contracted — 
When thou and I, two wild boys as we were, 
Grew up as brothers, my one sorrow was, 
To feel my talents thus eclips'd by thine. — 
Then I resolv'd to love thee without bounds, 



scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



Because I had not courage to be like thee. 

Hereon began I to torment thee with 

A thousand tender pledges of my love, 

Which thy proud heart return'd with chilling cold. 

Oft stood I there — yet thou observ'd'st it not ! 

Hot, heavy tear-drops hanging on mine eye, 

If thou ran'st by me, and with open arms 

Press' d'st to thy bosom some inferior friends. 

Why only these ? I mournfully exclaim'd : 

Do I not also dearly love thee too ? — 

Thou ceremoniously, and coldly knelt'st: 

That thou observd'st is due to the King's son. 

MARQUIS. 

O ! cease, Prince, from these boyish recollections, 
Which make me still red with the blush of shame. 

CARLOS. 

This did I merit not from thee. Despise 

Thou might'st, and deeply wound my heart, but ne'er 

Estrange it from thee. Thrice the Prince repuls'd, 

Thrice he came back to thee a suppliant, 

T'implore thy love, and force his own on thee. 

Chance brought about, what Carlos ne'er could do. 

It happen'd in our games thy shuttlecock 

Struck in the eye my aunt, Bohemia's Queen. 

She thought 'twas done intentionally, and 

Suffus'd in tears complain'd unto the King. 

All the young courtiers were straightway summon'd 

The culprit to denounce. The treach'rous act 

The monarch swore most fearfully to punish, 

Tho' 'twere his son who did it — I perceiv'd 

Thee trembling in the distance, and forthwith 

Stepp'd out, and threw me at the monarch's feet. 

I, I it was who did it, I exclaim'd : 

On thine own son thy vengeance wreak ! 

MARQUIS. 

Ah, Prince, 



18 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I. 



What recollections you recall ! 

CARLOS. 

It was wreak'd. 
In presence of the servants of the court, 
Who all stood round compassionate, 'twas wreak'd 
Upon thy Carl fully as on a slave. 
I look'd at thee and wept not : tho' the pang 
Made my teeth chatter loudly, I wept not. 
My Royal blood gush'd mercilessly out 
At ev'ry stroke disgracefully ; I look'd 
At thee, and wept not — thou cam'st up, and threw'st 
Thyself loud sobbing at my feet. Yes, yes, 
Thou cried'st, my pride is overcome. I will 
Repay the debt, when thou art King. 

Marquis, (holds out his hand to him) 

And I 

Will do so, Carl. The vow I made as boy, 
I now renew as man. I will repay. 
E'en now perhaps the hour is come. 

CARLOS. 

Now, now; 
O! tarry not. The hour is truly come. 
This is the moment when thou may'st redeem it. 
I need thy love — A fearful secret burns 
Within my breast. It must, it must come out. 
In thy pale looks my death-blow will I read. 
Listen — be petrified — but answer not — 
I love my Mother. 

MARQUIS. 

0! my God! 

CARLOS. 

No! This 

Forbearance will I not. Speak out. Say that 
Within this w r ide earth's orb no wretchedness 
Borders on mine — Speak — all that thou can'st say 
Do 1 divine ; the son his mother loves. 



scene if. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



19 



Custom, the rules of nature, and Rome's laws 
Condemn this passion. My pretension strikes 
Fearfully 'gainst my father's privilege. 
I feel it, still I love. This path I know- 
To madness or the scaffold only leads. 
I love without a hope—unnaturally — 
With agony, and danger of my life — 
I see all this, and yet I love her still. 

MARQUIS. 

Does the Queen know of this attachment? 

CARLOS. 

Could I 

Disclose myself to her ? She 's Philip's wife, 
And Queen ; and this is Spanish territory. 
Watch'd by my father's jealousy, and hemm'd 
On all sides in by strictest etiquette, 
How could I hope t' approach her unobserv'd? 
'Tis now eight months of hellish agony 
I've past, since from the university 
The King recall'd me ; and I'm daily doom'd 
To see her, and be silent as the grave. 
Roderick, eight months of agony of hell 
This flame of passion rages in my breast, 
A thousand times the dread confession has 
Burst on my lips, then timid and alarm'd 
Back to my heart it steals. O ! Roderick- 
Alone with her but for a few short moments — 

MARQUIS. 

Ah ! and your father, Prince — 

CARLOS. 

Unfortunate ! 
Why remind me of him? Speak to me of 
All pangs of conscience ; speak not of my father. 

MARQUIS. 

You hate your father? 

c 2 



20 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. T. 



CARLOS. 

Ah, no ! I hate not 
My father — But at his terrific name, 
A shivering", an apprehension such 
As culprits feel, takes hold of me. Can I 
Feel otherwise, when slavish education 
Nipp'd in the bud the tender germ of love 
In my young heart? Six years I liv'd before 
The fearful one they told me was my father 
My eyes beheld. 'Twas on a morning that 
He sign'd at once four sentences of death. 
From this time forth, I saw him only when 
Some fault of mine was mark'd for punishment. 
— O ! God ! here feel I that I am become 
Bitter — Away — Away — we'll from this place ! 

MARQUIS. 

No, you must make, Prince, this disclosure noiv. 
The o'ercharg'd soul with words relieves itself. 

CARLOS. 

Oft have I wrestled with myself, and oft 
At midnight when my keepers slept, with floods 
Of burning tears have thrown myself before 
The image of the blessed virgin, and 
Implor'd of her a filial heart, but rose 
Without a hearing. Ah, my Roderick ! 
This wond'rous mystery of Providence 
Unravel to me — Why this father is 
Among a thousand, lotted to me? And, 
'Mong thousand better, why this son to him? 
In her wide circle nature never found 
Two elements more opposite. And why 
Should she perforce with ties so sacred join 
The two extremes of mankind — me and him? 
Ill fated lot ! Why was it so decreed ? 
Why should two men who always shun each other, 
Clash just in one design so fearfully? 



scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



21 



Here see'st thou, Roderick, two hostile stars, 
Which only once in the whole course of time 
Coming in contact vertically, dash 
Against each other, and for ever separate. 

MARQUIS. 

I feel a dread foreboding. 

CARLOS. 

So do I. 

The fearfull'st dreams like furies from the deep 
Pursue me. My good genius doubting writhes 
With schemes of horror; my ill boding fancy 
Steals thro' the labyrinth of sophisms, till 
At last it stops upon th' abyss's brink — 
O ! Roderick, if in him I e'er forgot 
The father — Roderick — I perceive too well, 
Thy death-pale looks have understood me right. 
If I the father e'er in him forgot, 
What would the King be to me ? 

marquis, (after a pause) 

May I venture 
Of my dear Carlos one request to make ? 
Whate'er you purpose, promise me to do 
Nothing without your friend. You promise me? 

CARLOS. 

All, all, whate'er thy love requires of me. 
I place myself entirely in thy hands. 

MARQUIS. 

They say the King returns to town to night. 
The time is short. If you desire to speak 
In private with the Queen, it can only be 
In Aranjuez. The still quiet of 
The place — the manners of a country life, 
Free from court ceremony, favour it — 

CARLOS. 

That was my hope too. But, alas! 'twas vain! 



2*2 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I. 



MARQUIS. 

Not altogether so. I will present 

Myself to her forthwith; and if she be 

The same in Spain she was at Henry's court, 

I find her open-hearted. Should I read 

A hope for Carlos in her countenance, 

If I should find her favorable to 

This interview — can her ladies be remov'd — 

CARLOS. 

The most of them are well dispos'd towards me — 
The Mondekar especially I've gain'd 
By int'rest of her son, who is my page. — 

MARQUIS. 

So much the better. You, Prince, will be near, 
T'appear at once when I shall give the signal. 

CARLOS. 

That will I — will I — only hasten now. 

MARQUIS. 

I will not lose a single moment. Prince, 
We meet again there then. 

(Exeunt at different sides) 



SCENE III. 

The Queen 9 s Residence in Aranjuez. — Simple Pleasure^ 
Grounds, intersected by an Alley, bordered by the 
Queen's Country House. 

The Queen, Duchess Olivarez, Princess Eboli, 
and Marchioness Mondekar, 

(who come up the Alley) 

queen, (to the Marchioness) 
You will I have about me, Mondekar. 
The merry eyes of the Princess torment 
Me this whole morning. See, she scarcely knows 



scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



23 



How to conceal her joy, because she takes 
Leave of the country. 

EBOLI. 

I will not deny, 
My Queen, that I shall see Madrid again 
With great delight. 

MONDEKAR. 

And will not your Majesty ? 
From Aranjuez must you tear yourself 
With such regret? 

QUEEN. 

From — these sweet scenes at least. 
Here am I as it were in my own world, 
This little spot I chose me long ago 
To be my fav'rite. Greets me here again 
The rural nature of my childhood's years 
The bosom friend. Here too I find again 
My childish sports, and here I breathe the air 
Of my lov'd France. Nay, blame me not for this, 
The heart inclines all to our fatherland. 

EBOLI. 

But 'tis so dull and melancholy here, 
So lonely, one might fancy it La Trappe. 

QUEEN. 

Just the reverse. 'Tis only in Madrid 

I find it dull — What says the Duchess to it? 

OLIVAREZ. 

I think, your Majesty, 't has always been 

The custom, since there first were kings in Spain, 

To pass the summer months alternately 

Here and at Pardo ; in Madrid the winter. 

QUEEN. 

Yes, Duchess, you well know I have abandon'd 
For ever arguing with you. 

MONDEKAR. 

And in 



24 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. I. 



Madrid how lively it will shortly be ! 

The Plaza Major is now fitting" up 

In preparation for th' approaching bull-fight, 

And an 44 auto da f e " is promis'd us — 

QUEEN. 

Is promised us ! From gentle Mondekar 
Do I hear this? 

MONDEKAR. 

Why not ? They certainly 
Are heretics, whom we see burnt. 

QUEEN. 

I hope 

My Eboli thinks otherwise. 

EBOLI. 

I? — I trust 
Your Majesty will not consider me 
As a worse christian than the Marchioness. 

QUEEN. 

Ah ! ah ! I had forgotten where I am — 

To something else — I think we were conversing 

About the country. It appears to me 

This month has pass'd with great rapidity. 

I promis'd myself in this visit here 

Much, very much amusement, and found not 

What I expected. Is it always so 

With ev'ry hope ? And yet I cannot find 

A single wish that was not gratified. 

OLIVAREZ. 

You have not told us, Princess Eboli, 
If there is hope for Gomez? And if we 
May soon congratulate you as his bride ? 

QUEEN. 

Yes, Duchess, you are right to mention it. 

(to the Princess) 
They beg of me to intercede with you ; 
But how can I do this? The man whom I 



scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



25 



Reward with Eboli, must be indeed 
An estimable man. 

olivarez. 

Your Majesty, 
That is he ; a right worthy man, a man 
Whom our most gracious monarch 'tis well known 
Has honour'd with his royal confidence. 

QUEEN. 

How happy that must make the man — But we 
Would know if he can love, and find return 
Of love? — I ask that of you, Eboli. 

EBOLI. 

{stands silent and bewildered, her eyes cast upon the 
ground: at last she falls at the Queen 9 s feet) 

Take pity on me, gen'rous Queen. Let not — 
For God's sake let me not be sacrific'd. * 

QUEEN. 

Be sacrific'd? Enough — I need no more. 
Get up. It is indeed a cruel fate, 
I do believe you, to be sacrific'd. 
Get up — Is it then long ago since you 
Refus'd the Count? 

eboli. {getting up) 

O ! many months. Prince Carlos 
Was absent still at the university. 

QUEEN. 

(starts and looks at her with searching eyes) 
Have you consider'd well upon what grounds? 

eboli. (with some vehemence) 
It never — never can take place, my Queen, 
Upon a thousand grounds. 

queen, (very earnestly) 

More than a single 
One is too much. That you cannot love him — 
That is enough for me. No more of it. 

(to the other Ladies) 



26 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I. 



1 have not seen th' Infanta yet to-day. 
Marchioness, bring her to me. 

olivarez. (looks at the clock) 
It is not 
The hour as yet, your Majesty. 

QUEEN. 

The hour? 

Not yet the hour, when I dare be mother? 
That is too bad. Take care you let me know 
Then when it is the hour. 

(A Page comes in and whispers to the first lady, 
who thereupon turns to the Queen) 

OLIVAREZ. 

The Marquis Posa, 
May 't please your Majesty — 

QUEEN. 

The Marquis Posa ? 

OLIVAREZ. 

He's from the Netherlands and France return'd, 
And begs the honour to deliver you 
Some letters from the Regent mother. 

QUEEN. 

And 

Is that allow'd? 

olivarez. (considering) 

It is not mention'd in 
My orders this extraordinary case, 
Whether a Grandee of Castile may come 
To bring a letter from a foreign court 
To the Queen of Spain in her garden bower. 

QUEEN. 

At my own peril then I'll venture it! 

OLIVAREZ. 

1 hope your Majesty the while will give 
Me leave of absence — 



scene nr. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



27 



QUEEN. 

Duchess, as you please. 
(The first lady goes away, and the Queen looks at 
the Page, who immediately retires) 



SCENE IV. 

The Queen, Princess Eboli, Marchioness Mon- 
dekar, and Marquis Posa. 

queen. 

Sir Knight, I welcome your return to Spain. 
marquis. 

Which I was ne'er so justly proud to call 
My country as this moment — 

queen, (to both the ladies) 

The Marquis 
Posa, who in the tournament at Rheims, 
So nobly with my father broke a lance, 
And made my colours thrice victorious — 
The first man of his nation he who made 
Me feel a pride in being Queen of Spain. 

(turning to the Marquis) 
When in the Louvre we met last, Sir Knight, 
You did not dream that you would be my guest 
Here in Castile? 

MARQUIS. 

No, mighty Queen, because 
I dream' d not then that France would lose to us 
The only object which we envied her, 

QUEEN. 

Haughty Castilian ! What! the only one? — 
This to a daughter of the house of Valois? 



28 



DON CARLOS, 



act r. 



MARQUIS. 

Your Majesty, T venture now to say so — 
Since now you're ours. 

QUEEN. 

Your journey as I hear, 
Has led you too thro' France. What news have you 
To bring me from my much respected mother, 
And my dear brothers? 

marquis, (gives her the letters) 

The Queen mother I 
Found sick, and to all other worldly joys 
Indifferent, but anxious still to know 
Her Royal daughter on the throne of Spain 
Is happy. 

QUEEN. 

Must she not be so with such 
Remembrances of tender relatives? 

Sweet recollections of You visited 

Among your travels many courts, Sir Knight; 

Saw various countries, and of various men 

Observ'd the different customs — now, they say, 

'Tis your intention to reside at home? 

Within your quiet castle you will be 

A greater Prince than Philip on his throne — 

An independent! — a philosopher! 

I doubt if you will find much to divert you 

In Madrid. One is very — tranquil there. 

MARQUIS. 

And that is more than all the other courts 
Of Europe have to boast of. 

QUEEN. 

So I hear. 

I have almost unlearnt e'en the remembrance 
Of matters of this world. 

(to Princess Eboli) 
Princess, methinks 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



29 



I see a hyacinth in flower there — 
Be good enough to bring it me. 
(the Princess goes towards the place. The Queen 
in a lower tone to the Marquis) 

Sir Knight, 
I am mistaken much, if your arrival 
Make not another happy personage 
At court here. 

MARQUIS. 

One dispirited I find — 

Whom only something cheerful in this world 

{The Princess comes hack with the flower) 

EBOLI. 

As he has traveled thro* so many countries, 
The Knight is able, doubtless, to recount 
Some tales of wonder to amuse us with. 

MARQUIS. 

Certainly, and to seek adventures is 
Notoriously the duty of a Knight — 
The holiest of all is to defend 
The ladies. 

EBOLI. 

Against giants! But there are 
No longer any giants to subdue. 

MARQUIS. 

Power is a giant always to the weak. 

QUEEN. 

The Chevalier is right, there still are giants, 
No Knights remaining. 

MARQUIS. 

'Tis not long ago, 
On my return from Naples, I was witness 
Of an afflicting circumstance, which ties 
Of sacred friendship made almost my own — 
Did I not fear to tire your Majesty 
With the recital — 



80 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. I. 



QUEEN. 

Have 1 any choice? 
The Princess' curiosity allows 
Nothing to be kept from her. To your story : 
I too am fond of hearing narratives. 

MARQUIS. 

Two noble houses in Mirandola 
Tir'd of the struggles of long enmity 
Transmitted from the Ghibellines and Guelphs 
From sire to son above a hundred years, 
At length resolv'd by marriage' tender ties 
A lasting peace between them to cement. 
The mighty Peter's nephew, Ferdinand, 
And the Colonna's daughter, fair Mathilde, 
Were chosen to unite this precious bond; 
Two hearts more suited to each other ne'er 
Had nature form'd, and ne'er the world approv'd 
A happier choice, than such an union. 
Only as yet had Ferdinand ador'd 
His promis'd fair one in her miniature — 
How his heart beat to realize the truth 
Of what his warm imagination dare 
Not trust to painting ! 'Twas in Padua 
Where he was chain'd by study, Ferdinand 
Waited impatiently the happy hour 
Which would permit him at Matilda's feet 
To stammer forth the homage of first love. 
(The Queen grows more attentive. After a short 
pause the Marquis continues his narrative, as Jar 
as the presence of the Queen allows, addressed 
rather to Princess Eboli) 
In the mean time his wife's demise had made 
The hand of Peter free. — With all the heat 
Of youthful passion did the hoary man 
Imbibe the praises of Matilda's charms, 
Which thousand voices pour'd into his ear. 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



31 



He comes — he sees ! — he loves ! The new torrent 
Stifles impetuous nature's gentler voice, 
The uncle woos his nephew's promis'd bride, 
And at the altar sanctifies his theft. 

QUEEN. 

And what does Ferdinand resolve? 

MARQUIS. 

On wings 

Of love, unconscious of the fearful change 
He hastens to Mirandola, with joy 
Intoxicate. His fleet horse by star light 
Reaches the gate — the Bacchanalian sounds 
Of drums and kettledrums come thund'ring forth 
From the illumin'd palace. Up the stairs 
Trembling and shy he mounts, and finds himself 
In the nuptial hall unrecognis'd, wherein 
Surrounded by inebriated guests 
Sat Peter, with an angel at his side ; 
An angel whom he knows, and who to him 
E'en in his dreams ne'er seem'd so beautiful. 
A single glance show'd what he had possess' d — 
Show'd him, what now he had for ever lost. 

EBOLI. 

Unhappy Ferdinand ! 

QUEEN. 

Your narrative 
Is ended, Knight? — It must be ended. 

MARQUIS. 

No, 

Not quite. 

QUEEN. 

Did you not tell us, Ferdinand 
Was a friend of yours. 

MARQUIS. 

I have no dearer one. 



32 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. f. 



EBOLI. 

Proceed, Knight, with your story. 

MARQUIS. 

It becomes 

Most painful — and the recollection of it 
Renews my pang. Excuse me the conclusion. — 

(a general silence) 
queen, (turns to the Princess) 
Now then, at last, I may embrace my daughter. — 
Bring her to me, Princess. 

(She withdraws, — The Marquis looks at a Page who 
shows himself' in the background and immediately 
disappears, — The Queen breaks open the letters 
which the Marquis has given her, and appears sur- 
prised. During this time the Marquis speaks low 
and very earnestly to the Marchioness Mondekar, — 
The Queen has read the letters, and turns with a 
searching look to the Marquis) 

You have inform'd us 

Nothing about Matilda? She perhaps 

Knows not what Ferdinand has sufFer'd? 

MARQUIS. 

None 

Matilda's heart has sounded — but great souls 
Suffer in silence. 

QUEEN. 

You are looking round? 
Whom do your eyes search for ? 

MARQUIS. 

I'm thinking of 
A certain person whom I dare not name, 
How happy he would be here in my place. 

QUEEN. 

Whose fault is it he is not? 

marquis, (catching quickly at the words) 
How? Dare I 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 33 

Interpret this expression as I will ? 

Would he be pardon'd should he now appear? 

queen, (alarmed) 
Now? Marquis, now? What do you mean by that? 

MARQUIS. 

He might then hope — might he? 

queen, (with increasing agitation) 

You frighten me, 

Marquis — He will not — 

MARQUIS. 

Here he is already. 



SCENE V. 
The Queen. Carlos. 

The Marquis Posa and Marchioness Mondekar 
retire into the background. 

carlos. (kneeling before the Queen) 
So then the moment is arriv'd at last, 
And Carl dare press this dear beloved hand !■— 

QUEEN. 

Oh ! what a step is this — how culpable, 
Fool-hardy this surprise ! Rise up ! We are 
Discover'd. All my court is near at hand. 

CARLOS. 

I will not up — here will I ever kneel. 
Upon this spot will I enchanted lie, 
In this position rooted — 

QUEEN. 

Madman! to what 
Audacity my condescension leads ! 



84 



DON CARLOS, 



act r. 



How ! Know you 'tis the Queen, the mother 'tis 
To whom this daring- language is address'd? 
Know you that 1 — myself will to the King 1 
This rash intrusion — 

CARLOS. 

And that I must die ! 
Let them then drag me hence to execution. 
One moment liv'd in Paradise will not 
Too dearly be atoned for by death. 

QUEEN. 

And your Queen ? 

carlos. (gets up) 

God! 0! God! I go— Yes! I 
Will leave you — Must I not, if you yourself 
Demand it thus? O! mother! mother! how 
Terribly do you sport with me ! One look, 
One glance, one syllable from out your mouth, 
Has power to bid me be, and cease to be. 
What will you then should happen? What is there 
Beneath the sun that I will hasten not 
At your desire to sacrifice ? 

QUEEN. 

Fly ! Fly ! 

CARLOS. 

0! God! 

QUEEN. 

With tears I do conjure you, Carl, 
This thing alone. Fly ! Fly ! — Before my court, 
Before my gaoler finding you and me 
Together, to your father's ear convey 
The grand intelligence — 

CARLOS. 

I wait my fate — 
Or be it life or death — How ! Have I then 
Turn'd all my hopes tow'rds this one instant, which 
At length presents you to me unobserv'd. 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



For false alarms to disappoint me at 
The very goal ? No, Queen ! an hundred times, 
A thousand times the world may turn upon 
Its axis, before chance repeat this favour. 

QUEEN. 

It never shall to all eternity. 

Unfortunate ! What do you hope from me? 

CARLOS. 

! Queen, that I have struggled, struggled ay ! 
God is my witness, as ne'er mortal did — 
Queen ! 'tis in vain ! My spirit is subdued. 
I yield. 

QUEEN. 

No more of this — for my peace sake — 

CARLOS. 

You were my Bride — in presence of the world 
By two great courts affianc'd, recognis'd 
As mine by Heav'n and nature, and Philip, 
Philip has stol'n you from me — 

QUEEN. 

He 's your father. 

CARLOS. 

And he's your husband. 

QUEEN. 

Who will leave to you 
The proudest heritage in all this world. 

CARLOS. 

And you for mother — 

QUEEN. 

! great God ! You rave — 

CARLOS. 

Knows he how rich he is ? Has he a heart 

Capable of appreciating yours? 

I'll not complain, nay more, I will forget, 

How inexpressibly beatified 

I might have been with you — if he is so, 

E 2 



M 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. 



That is he not — the thought, the thought is hell ! 
That is he not, and that he ne'er will be. 
You robb'd me of my paradise — for what f 
— Only to blast it in King Philip's arms. 

QUEEN. 

Horrid insinuation ! 

CARLOS. 

O ! I know 
Who was th' adviser of this union — 
I know how Philip loves, and how he woo'd. 
Who are you in this kingdom? Let me hear. 
Regent forsooth? No, never ! How could then, 
Where you are Regent, Albas tyrannize? 
Or how could Flanders bleed to seal her faith? 
Then are you Philip's wife ? Impossible ! 
Incredible! A wife can influence 
Her husband's heart — and who has pow'r o'er his? 
And for each little tenderness, which in 
The heat of passion slips from him, begs he 
Not pardon of his crown and hoary hairs ? 

QUEEN. 

Who told you that by Philip's side my lot 
Is pitiable ? 

CARLOS. 

3Iy own heart — which feels 
Fiercely how enviable it had been 
By mine. 

QUEEN. 

Vain man ! but then supposing that 
My heart now told me the reverse of this? 
If Philip's kind respectful tenderness 
And the still speechless glances of his love 
Touch'd me more deeply than his haughty son's 
Presumptuous eloquence? If an old man's 
Considerate attention — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



37 



CARLOS. 

That is somewhat 
Different — then — then I entreat your pardon. 
This did I know not, that you love the King. 

QUEEN. 

To honour him's my pleasure and my wish. 

CARLOS. 

You never lov'd? 

QUEEN. 

Extraordinary question ! 

CARLOS. 

You never lov'd? 

QUEEN. 

I love no more. 

CARLOS. 

Because 

Your heart forbids it, or because your oath? 

QUEEN. 

Leave me, Prince, and never recur again 
To such a conversation. 

CARLOS. 

Is 't because 
Your oath forbids it or because your heart? 

QUEEN. 

Because my duty — ! unfortunate ! 

Of what avail is this sad scrutiny 

Of fate, which you and I must bow to ? 

CARLOS. 

Must? 

Must bow to ? 

QUEEN. 

How? What means this solemn tone? 

CARLOS. 

So much, that Carlos is not minded to 
Listen to must, where he has pow'r to will; 
That Carlos is not minded to remain 



m 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I 



The most unhappy person in this realm, 
If it cost nothing but the overthrow 
Of law, to render him the happiest. 

QUEEN*. 

Do I interpret right? Do you still hope? 

Dare you still hope, where all — where all is lost? 

CARLOS. 

I look on nought as lost, except the dead. 

QUEEN. 

From me, your mother do you hope? — 
(she looks at him long and piercingly — then with 
dignity and earnestness) 

Why not? 

O ! the new chosen King can more than this — 

He can with fire destroy and nullify 

His predecessor's ordinances, can 

Blot out his memory, he even can — 

Who hinders him? — the mummy of the dead 

From its repose in the Escurial 

Drag forth to light of day, to the four winds 

Scatter his desecrated ashes, and 

Then lastly to complete the worthy whole — 

CARLOS. 

For God's sake finish not the catalogue. 

QUEEN". 

At last besides unite him to the mother. 

CARLOS. 

Accursed son! 

(he stands a moment fixed and speechless 
Yes! now 'tis o'er. J Tis o'er. 
— Clearly I see and brightly, what should have 
Been ever darkness to me. You are lost 
To me — for ever lost — for ever lost ! 
The die is fallen. You are lost to me — 
O ! in this thought is hell.— Hell in the other, 
To be possess'd of you. Oh! Oh! lean 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



39 



Endure no more, my nerves begin to fail. 

QUEEN. 

Dear pitiable Carl ! I feel it all — 

I feel full well the nameless pang, which in 

Your bosom rages. Endless as your love, 

Must be your agony. Endless, as it, 

The glory too is of outmast'ring it. 

Rouse you, young hero, to the noble fight, 

The prize is worthy of the champion, 

Is worthy of the youth, within whose heart 

The virtues of so many ancestors 

Of Royal race descend. Man yourself, Prince ! — 

The grandson of the mighty Carl begins 

To strive anew, where sons of other men 

Give up dishearten'd. 

CARLOS. 

'Tis too late! O! God! 

It is too late ! 

QUEEN. 

Too late to be a man? 
O ! Carl ! How grand our virtue then becomes, 
When the heart breaks beneath its exercise ! 
Providence plac'd you high — and higher, Prince, 
Than millions of your brothers. What it took 
From others, it bestow' d with partial hand 
Upon its favorite ; and millions ask, 
What was his merit at his birth to be 
Signaliz'd thus before us other mortals? 
Up ! Rescue you the equity of Heav'n, 
Deserve yourself the world's pre-eminence, 
And sacrifice, what none yet sacrific'd. 

CARLOS. 

That can I too — I have a giant's strength 
To combat to obtain ; but none to lose you. 

QUEEN. 

Confess it, Carlos — it is haughtiness, 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. T. 



And bitterness and pride, which draw you on 

Thus madly tow'rds your mother ; while the love, 

The heart you prodigally sacrifice 

To me, belongs to these dominions, 

Which you will govern at some future day. 

See now, you squander a confided trust, 

The fortune of your ward. Your all-engrossing 

Object is love. Hitherto it has stray'd 

Towards the mother — Bring, ! bring it back ; 

Devote it to your future Kingdom, and 

Instead of stabs of conscience, feel the charm, 

The bliss, to be a God. Elizabeth 

Was your first love. Let Spain be the second. 

How willingly, good Carl, will I give way, 

And to a better lover yield my claims! 

CARLOS. 

(throws himself at her feet overpowered by his 
feelings) 

How great you are, angelic creature ! — Yes, 
All you desire will I perform ! So be it ! 

(he gets up) 
Here in th' Almighty's hand I stand, and swear, 
And swear to you, swear everlasting — No ! 
O! Heav'n! only everlasting silence, 
But not — everlasting forgetfulness. 

QUEEN. 

How could I ask from Carlos, what I wish 
Myself not to perform? 

MARQurs. (hastens out of the Alley) 
The King ! 

QUEEN. 

O! God! 

MARQUIS. 

Away ! Away, Prince, from this spot. 

QUEEN. 

Tremendous 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 41 
Is his suspicion, should he see you here — 

CARLOS. 

I stay ! 

QUEEN. 

And then who '11 be the sacrifice? 

carlos. (pulls the Marquis by the arm) 
Away ! Away ! Come, Roderick, away ! 

(he goes and comes back again) 
And what may I presume to take with me? 

queen. 

The friendship of your mother. 

CARLOS. 

Friendship ! Mother ! 

QUEEN. 

And these tears from the Netherlands. 

(She gives him some letters, Carl and the Marquis 
go away. The Queen uneasy looks about for her 
ladies, who are no where visible. As she is re- 
tiring to the background, the King makes his ap- 
pearance). 



SCENE VI. 

The King, the Queen, Duke Alba, Count Lerma, 
Domingo, some Ladies and Grandees who stay 
behind in the distance. 

KING. 

(looks about with astonishment, and is a long time 
silent) 

So then 

Madam, alone? And not a single lady 



42 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I. 



Attendant on you. That surprises me — 
Where were your women? 

QUEEN. 

My most gracious husband — 

KING. 

"Wherefore alone? 

(to the suite) 

Strictest account I'll take 
Of this most inexcusable neglect. 
Who's in attendance on her Majesty? 
Whose turn is it to wait on her to day ? 

QUEEN. 

My husband, be not angry — I myself, 
I am the guilty one — at my command 
Did Princess Eboli absent herself. 

KING. 

At your command ? 

QUEEN. 

To call the nurse, because 
I long'd to see th' Infanta. 

KING. 

And therefore 
Your retinue was sent away? But this 
Exculpates only the first lady. Then 
Where was the second? 

MONDEKAR. 

(who in the mean time is come back and mix'd with 
the other ladies, steps forward) 

Please your Majesty, 
I feel that I am blameable — 

KING. 

Therefore 

Ten years we grant you to reflect on it 
Far from Madrid. 

(Mondekar retires, her eyes full of tears. A general 
silence. All the attendants look at the Queen in 

dismay) 



scene vi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



43 



QUEEN. 

Marchioness, whom are you 

Weeping for ? 

(to the King) 
If I 've err'd, most gracious liege, 
The Royal crown of these domains, which I 
Never myself aspir'd to, should at least 
Have spar'd my blushes. Is there in this realm, 
A law which cites Kings' daughters to appear 
Before the judgment-seat? Does force alone 
Watch o'er the wives of Spain? Are witnesses 
A stronger safeguard to them than their virtue? 
And now excuse, my liege — 1 am not wont 
To send away in tears those who have been 
With pleasure in my service. Mondekar! 

(she takes off her girdle and gives it to the 
Marchioness) 
'Tis the King you have offended — and not me — 
Take here this pledge of my own favour, and 
Of this hour. — Shun these realms — in Spain alone 
It is that you have sinn'd. In mine own France 
We wipe away such tears with joy. — Oh ! it 
Must always come across me ! In mine own France 
'Twere different indeed. 
(she leans on her first lady and covers her face) 
king, (with some emotion) 

Could a remark 
Suggested by my love give pain to you? 
A word give pain, which was the utterance 
Of my most tender interest and care ? 

(he turns to the Grandees) 
Here stand around the vassals of my throne ! 
Did slumber ever on my eyelids fall, 
Before I had at even ev'ry day 
Consider' d, how my subjects' bosoms beat 
E'en in the farthest climes which own my sway ? — 

F 2 



11 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. T. 



And should I feel more anxious for my throne, 
Than for the chosen consort of my heart? 
Mine own good sword can answer for my people, 
And — the Duke Alba — but this eye alone 
For my wife's love. 

QUEEN. 

My liege, if I 've offended — 

KING. 

I'm calPd the richest man in Christendom, 

The sun in my dominions ne'er goes down — 

All this another has possess'd before, 

And many others will possess hereafter. 

But that is mine alone. What the King has, 

Belongs to fortune. Elizabeth to Philip. 

Here is the spot — here — here where I am mortal. 

QUEEN. 

You fear, Sire? 

KING. 

Should not then these hoary hairs? 
If I an instant fear'd, I 've ceas'd to fear — 

(to the Grandees) 
I count the Grandees of my Court — The first 
Is absent — where 's Don Carlos, my Infante? 

(no one answers) 
The boy Don Carl begins to be to me 
A source of fear. My presence he avoids 
Since his return from the university. 
His blood is hot, why then so cold his look? 
So formally measur'd his deportment? 
Be vigilant, I recommend you, Duke. 

ALBA. 

I am so, Sire; long as a heart shall beat 

Beneath this corselet, Philip may lie down 

To sleep in peace. As stands th' Almighty's cherub 

Before the gate of Paradise, Duke Alba 

Before the throne. 



scene vi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



45 



LERMA. 

With the most wise of Kings 
Dare I presume humbly to disagree? 
Too deeply I revere your Majesty, 
To pass a judgment thus severe and rash 
Upon your son. From Carlos' young hot blood 
Much do I fear, but nothing from his heart. 

KING. 

Count Lerma, you speak well to gain the father; 
Duke Alba here will be the King's support — 
No more of it. 

(he turns towards the suite) 
I haste now to Madrid. 
A Kingly duty calls me. Heresy 
Infests my people with its pestilence ; 
Rebellion waxes in my Netherlands. 
There is no time to lose. A dread example 
Shall convert the heretics, the solemn oath 
Which all the Kings of Christendom have sworn, 
I will redeem to-morrow. It shall be 
A day of judgment without precedent, 
And all my Court is formally invited. 

(he leads the Queen away, the others follow). 



SCENE VII. 

Don Carlos with letters in his hand, Marquis 
Posa come from the other side, 

CARLOS. 

I am resolv'd. Flanders shall be rescued. 
She wishes it — that is enough for me. 

MARQUIS. 

There 's not another moment to be lost. 



4(> 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT I. 



They say, already in the cabinet 
Duke Alba is appointed Governor. 

CARLOS. 

I will entreat an audience betimes 
To-morrow of my father, and demand 
This office for myself. It is the first 
Request I venture. He cannot refuse it. 
For a long time my presence in Madrid 
Is irksome to him. What an excellent 
Pretext will this be to get rid of me ! 
And — shall I own it to thee, Roderick ? 
I hope yet more — perhaps I may succeed 
Face to face with him, in recovering 
His grace, and favour. Never yet he heard 
The voice of Nature — Roderick, let me try 
From my own lips what influence she may have. 

MARQUIS. 

Now do I hear once more at last my Carlos. 
Now altogether you 're yourself again. 



SCENE VIII. 
The same. Count Lerma. 

LERMA. 

The King has just left Aranjuez, Prince 
I am commanded — 

CARLOS. 

Very good, Count Lerma. 

I arrive with the King. 

MARQUIS. 

(assumes the appearance of retiring ceremoniously) 

Has your Highness 
No further orders for me? 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



4? 



CARLOS. 

Nothing", Knight. 
I wish you joy on your arrival in 
Madrid. You will have more to tell me of 
The Netherlands. 

(to Lerma, who is still waiting) 
I follow, Count, forthwith. 

(Count Lerma goes away). 



SCENE IX. 
Don Carlos. The Marquis. 

CARLOS. 

I understood thee, and I thank thee. But 

The presence of a third person alone 

Excuses this formality. Are we 

Not brothers'? For the future let this farce 

Of rank be banish'd from our covenant ! 

Persuade thyself we meet each other at 

A masquerade, thou, as a slave disguis'd, 

And I in purple dress' d for merriment. 

As long as Carnival continues, we 

Keep up our characters with laughably 

Serious importance, not to interrupt 

The entertainment of the company. 

Then thro' the mask thy Carlos winks at thee, 

Thou squeez'st my hand in passing by, and we 

Understand each other. 

MARQUIS. 

The dream's divine. 
But will it ne'er take wings? Is my Carlos 
So certain of himself that he can brave 
The charm of absolute authority ? 



48 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT 



There is a day — a glorious day to come — 

When this heroic feeling — I'll remind 

You of it — will be most severely tried. 

Don Philip dies. Carlos succeeds unto 

The greatest empire in all Christendom — 

A wide gulph of partition separates him 

From the race of mortals, and he is to-day 

A God, who was but yesterday a man. 

No longer feels he human weaknesses. 

The duties of eternity absorb him — 

Humanity — a word tho' e'en to-day 

That leaves the loudest echo on his ear — 

Barters herself, and cringes servilely 

Before her idols. Sympathy is quench'd 

With sense of suff'ring — Virtue is exhausted 

By lust, for his extravagance Peru 

Purveys him gold, his Court to feed his vices 

Breeds devils for him. In this Paradise, 

His crafty slaves have made, he sleeps enchanted. 

Long, as his dream, lasts his divinity. 

Woe to the madman, who awakens him 

Compassionate. But what would Roderick do? 

Friendship is true and bold — and Majesty 

Diseas'd will not endure its fearful flash. 

You will not bear the Burgher's insolence, 

Nor I the Prince's haughtiness. 

CARLOS. 

True, true 
And fearful is the picture thou hast drawn 
Of Monarchs. Yes, I do believe thee — Yes. 
But yet the lust of appetite alone 
Expos'd their hearts to vices. — I am still, 
A youth of three and twenty still am pure. 
What thousands have before unprincipled 
Squander'd in riotous debauchery, 
The better half of spirit, manly strength, 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



49 



Have I reserved for the future Sov'reign. 

What could in truth estrange thee from my heart, 

If women do not? 

MARQUIS. 

I myself. Could I 
With such devotion love you, Carl, if I 
Must fear you? 

CARLOS. 

That will never be the case. 
Need'st thou my patronage ? Dost thou cherish 
Passions which crave assistance from the throne? 
Does wealth hold out a charm for thee? Thou art 
A richer subject, than I e'er shall be 
A King. — Dost thou aspire to dignities? 
While still a youth thou hast exhausted all 
Which honours give — thou hast e'en declin'd them. 
Which of us two will be the creditor, 
And which the debtor? — Art thou silent? Dost 
Thou tremble 'fore th' investigation? Art 
Thou not more certain of thyself? 

MARQUIS. 

Well ! Well ! 

I yield. Here is my hand, 

CARLOS. 

Thou'rt mine ? 

MARQUIS. 

For ever, 

And in the fullest meaning of the word. 

CARLOS. 

So true and warm, as to th' Infante to-day, 
Thou 'It be one day devoted to the King? 

MARQUIS. 

I swear it to you. 

CARLOS. 

Then too, if the worm 
Of flatt'ry my unguarded heart attack, 

G 



60 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. I. 



And if this eye forget the tears, which now 
It sheds — this ear be deaf to mercy's cries — 
Wilt thou, the fearless guardian of my fame, 
Recall me forcibly to virtue, and 
Invoke my spirit by its mighty name? 

MARQUIS. 

Yes. 

CARLOS. 

Now one more request ! Address me Thou ! 
I've always envied in thy equals, this 
Prerogative of intimacy. Thou, 
So brotherly, so sweet, it cheats my ear, 
My heart, to fancy an equality. 
— Make no objection — What thou would'st advance 
I guess. To thee 'tis trifling that I know — 
To me the King's son of the highest import. 
Wilt thou become my brother? 

MARQUIS. 

Thy brother ! 

CARLOS. 

Now to the King, now fear I nothing more — 
Thus, arm in arm with thee, I bid defiance 
To all my century. 

(Exeunt). 



scene i. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



51 



ACT II. 

In the Royal Palace at Madrid. 
SCENE I. 

King Philip under a Canopy. Duke Alba at some 
distance from the King, with his head covered. 
Carlos. 

CARLOS. 

The Kingdom takes precedence. Willingly 

Carlos gives way before the Minister. 

He speaks for Spain. J am the Monarch's son. 

(he retires bowing) 

PHILIP. 

The Duke remains, and the Infante may speak. 

carlos. (turning towards Alha) 
I must, Duke, from your generosity 
Request then as a favor, the King's ear. 
A child — you know it certainly — can work 
In various ways upon a father's heart, 
Which are not for a third person. The King 
Is wholly yours — for this short hour I wish 
The father only. 

PHILIP. 

And here stands his friend. 

CARLOS. 

Have I e'er merited to think him mine ? 



o'2 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



PHILIP. 

And have you e'er desir'd to merit it? 
The sons who think to make a better choice 
Than their own fathers, please me not. 

CARLOS. 

Can then 

Duke Alba's Knightly pride endure to witness 
This scene? ByHeav'n! The interloper's part 
Who uninvited blushes not t' intrude 
Himself 'twixt son and father, who condemns 
Himself to stand there in the piercing" sense 
Of his own utter insignificance, 
No! as I live, 1 would not play the part — 
Tho' it were worth a diadem. 

PHILIP. 

(quits his seat with an angry look at the Prince) 

Retire, Duke ! 
(he goes towards the principal door, by which Carlos 

had entered: the King makes a sign to him to go out 

by the other) 
No, into the Cabinet, till I call you. 



SCENE II. 
King Philip. Carlos. 

CARLOS. 

(As soon as the Duke has left the room he goes to- 
ivards the King, and kneels before him with an 
expression of the highest emotion) 
Now mine again, now mine again my father, 
And my best thanks for this great condescension. — 
Your hand, my father ! — O ! delicious day ! — 
The rapture of this kiss were to your child 



scene [. A DRAMATIC POEM. 53 

Long* unvouchsafed, why so long, my father, 

Have I been banish'd from your heart ? What have 

I done ? 

PHILIP. 

Infante, thy heart is stranger to 
These arts. Forego them, I approve them not. 

carlos. (getting up) 
That was it ! There I hear your Courtiers — 
My father ! 'tis not good, by Heav'n ! 'Tis not 
All good, not all whate'er a Priest declares, 
Not all the creatures of a Priest have told you. 
I am not bad, my father — heated blood 
Is my delinquency, and youth my crime. 
Bad I am not, bad truly not — and tho' 
Wild passions oft be charg'd against my heart, 
My heart is good — 

PHILIP. 

Thy heart is pure I know, 
Pure as thy prayer. 

CARLOS. 

Now or never then. — 
We are alone. The thin partition wall 
Of etiquette is sunk 'twixt son and father, 
Now then or never. A sunbeam of hope 
Gleams forth upon me ; a presentiment, 
A sweet presentiment pervades my soul — 
All Heav'n with choirs of happy angels bows ; 
Full of emotion the Thrice-holy Spirit 
Looks down upon the noble, lovely scene — 
Be reconcil'd my father! 

(he Jails at his feet) 

PHILIP. 

Loose me, and 

Get up ! 

CARLOS. 

Be reconcil'd! 



54 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IT. 



PHILIP. 

(endeavouring to disengage himself from him) 
These juggler's tricks 

Are too presumptuous — 

CARLOS. 

Too presumptuous 

Thy child's affection ? 

PHILIP. 

Tears too ? Unworthy 
Object ! — Out of my sight ! 

CARLOS. 

Now or never ! 

Father, be reconciPd! 

PHILIP. 

Out of my sight ! 
Return from action cover'd with dishonour, 
My arms shall be stretch'd open to receive thee — 
Thus, I repulse thee ! — Dastard guilt alone, 
Will in such fountains shameless wash itself. 
Who feels no blush for penitence, will never 
Spare himself cause for penitence. 

CARLOS. 

Who's this? 
Thro' what misunderstanding has this alien 
From human feelings lost himself? — Tears are 
The eternal witness of humanity, 
His eyes are dry, no woman gave him birth — 
O ! strain the eyes, which never yet were wet 
With tears, betimes to learn to weep, or you 
Hereafter in some hour of agony 
May else find needful then to summon them. 

PHILIP. 

Think'st thou to shake thy father's weighty doubt 
With fair words ? 

CARLOS. 

Doubt ? I'll blot it out, this doubt— 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 



55 



Will hang* upon my fathers heart, and tug 

Forcibly at it, tug until this crust 

Of doubt, tho' hard as flint, fall off from it. — 

Who are they then who have depriv'd me of 

My Sov'reign's favor? What boon did the Priest 

Offer the father for the son ? And how 

Will Alba make him compensation for 

A childless life, self blasted? Will you love? 

Here in this bosom springs a source more fresh, 

More hot, than in those turbid, stagnant holes 

Which Philip's gold must open first. 

PHILIP. 

Hold! rash 
Calumniator ! — These thou dar'st revile, 
Are the trust-worthy servants of my choice, 
And thou shalt honour them. 

CARLOS. 

Never. I feel 

My own importance. What your Albas can, 

That too can Carl, and Carl can more. What cares 

A hireling for the Kingdom's welfare, which 

Can never be his own. What matters it 

To him, if Philip's grey hairs become white? 

Your Carlos had lov'd you. I shudder at 

The thought, abandon'd and alone — to be 

Alone upon a throne. 

PHILIP. 

(startled by this word stands musing. A fter a pause) 
I am alone. 

CARLOS. 

{going towards him with vivacity and warmth) 
You have been so. Hate me no more, and I 
Will love you with a child's intense affection, 
Only hate me no more. — How rapturous, 
And sweet it is to feel immortaliz'd 
In a noble spirit, to feel well assur'd 



MS 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



That our delight makes others' cheeks grow warm, 

That others' bosoms tremble at our pain, 

And that our sorrows moisten others' eyes! — 

How lovely 'tis, how splendid, arm in arm 

With an affectionate, dearly lov'd son, 

To walk again the flow'ry path of youth, 

And dream once more the fleeting dream of life! 

How great, and sweet to last for centuries 

Undying and imperishable in 

The virtues of a child, blest and blessing! — 

How grand to plant what a lov'd son will reap, 

To sow, what will produce a crop for him, 

To think, how high his thanks will one day rise ! — 

My father, of this earthly paradise 

Your Priests are silent wisely. 

philip. Qiot without emotion) 
O ! my son, 

My son, thine own words have condemn'd thyself. 
The picture thou hast drawn of happiness 
Thou hast not suffer'd me to realize. 

CARLOS. 

Judge that th' Omniscient! — You yourself repuls'd 

Me from a father's heart, as well as from 

Participating in your Royalty. 

Till now, until this day — O ! was it just, 

Was it reasonable ? — Until now must I 

Spain's Crown-Prince, be an alien in Spain, 

A prisoner in this land, where I shall be 

One day the lord? Was that right, was it kind? — 

How oft, how oft, my father, have I felt 

With down-cast eyes the burning blush of shame, 

When Ministers of foreign Potentates, 

Or public Journals brought me the first news 

Of Court proceedings at Aranjuez ! 

PHILIP. 

The blood ferments too fiercely in thy veins. « 



scene ir. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



57 



Thou would'st but ruin. 

CARLOS. 

Give me then to ruin, 
Father. — It ferments fiercely in my veins — 
I am now three and twenty years of age, 
And nothing" done for immortality! 
I am awaken'd, and I feel my state. 
My title to the throne arouses me 
From slumber like an urgent creditor, 
And all the hours of youth I've thrown away, 
Like debts of honour clamour loud against me. 
It comes at last, the glorious moment which 
Demands of me the int'rest of the talent : 
History, the glory of my ancestors, 
And reputation's thund'ring trumpet-blast 
Invoke me, now the period is arriv'd, 
To ope for me the glorious lists of fame. — 
Dare I, my Sov'reign, venture to express 
The purport of the wish which brings me hither? 

PHILIP. 

Still a request ? Disclose it. 

CARLOS. 

The revolt 
In Brabant rises to a fearful height. 
The boldness of the rebels calls for strong 
And dexterous resistance. To bring down 
The spirit of the rioters, the Duke 
Invested by thdfeing with sov'reign pow'rs, 
Must lead an expedition into Flanders. 
How honorable is this office, how 
Fully appropriate to introduce 
Your son into the temple of renown ! — 
To me, my King, to me entrust the army. 
The Netherlanders love me, I will venture 
My life to answer for their loyalty. 

H 



58 



DON CARLOS, 



act n. 



PHILIP. 

Thou speak'st like one who dreams. This office will 
A man, no stripling— 

CARLOS. 

Will only a man? 
And, father, that is just the very thing, 
Which Alba ne'er has been. 

PHILIP. 

And terror can 
Alone put down revolt. Humanity 
Were madness. — Thy heart, my son, is tender, 
The Duke is fear'd — desist from thy request. 

CARLOS. 

Dispatch me with the army into Flanders, 
Entrust it to my tender-heartedness. 
The name of the King's son emblazon'd on 
My colours conquers in an instant, where 
Duke Alba's hangmen spread but desolation. 
Upon my knees 1 make you this request, 
It is the first one of my life — Father, 
Trust Flanders to me. 

PHILIP. 

(viewing the Infante with piercing look) 
And my best army 
At the same time to thy ambitious views? 
The dagger to my murderer? 

CARLOS. 

O ! my dm ! 

Am I no farther, and is this the fruit 
Of the important hour I begg'd so long? 

(after refection, with subdued earnestness) 
Reply more kindly, nor dismiss me thus. 
With this ungracious answer I would not 
Be sent away, nor willingly dismiss'd 
With this heavy heart. Treat me more graciously. 
It is my urgent need, it is my last 



scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM, 



m 



Essay of desperation — 1 cannot 

Endure, not bear it firmly like a man, 

That you refuse me all in such a- tone. — 

Now you dismiss me from your sight. Unheard, 

Of thousand sweet anticipations robb'd, 

I quit your presence. — Crown'd with victory 

Will your Domingo and your Alba be, 

Where now your son is weeping in the dust. 

The host of Courtiers, the trembling Grandees, 

And the sin-pale fraternity of Priests, 

Were witnesses you gave me audience. 

Disgrace me not ! Wound me not so mortally, 

Father, to sacrifice me to the scorn, 

Th' insulting mock'ry of your menials, 

That strangers revel in your smiles, your Carl 

Can gain no favour from you. As a proof, 

You wish to honour me, dispatch me with 

The army into Flanders. 

PHILIP. 

Repeat not 

These words, at peril of thy King's displeasure. 

CARLOS. 

I risk my King's displeasure, and entreat 

For the last time — entrust Flanders to me. 

I will and must leave Spain. My staying here 

Is drawing breath beneath the headsman's hand — 

The air weighs heavy on me in Madrid, 

Like consciousness of murder. Instant change 

Of clime alone can re-establish me. 

If you would save me — without loss of time 

Send me to Flanders. 

PHILIP. 

(with extorted calmness) 
Invalids, my son, 
Like thee, require good treatment, and must be 
Under the doctors' eyes. Thou stay'st in Spain ; 

h 2 



00 DON CARLOS, act n. 

Duke Alba goes to Flanders, 

CARLOS. 

(above himself) 
Stand by me, 

Good spirits, now — 

PHILIP. 

(who retires a step) 
Hold ! What mean these wild looks'? 

CARLOS. 

(with trembling voice) 
Father, is this decision final, and 
Irrevocable? 

PHILIP. 

It came from the King. 

CARLOS. 

My commission's done. 

(Exit in violent emotion). 



SCENE III. 



Philtp remains a long time sunk in gloomy reflection; 
at last he paces backwards and forwards in the 
Room, Alba approaches him in embarrassment. 

PHILIP. 

Hold yourself ready, 
To start for Brussels at a moment's notice. 

ALBA. 

All is prepar'd, my King. 

PHILIP. 

And your credentials 
Lie seal'd already in the Cabinet. 



scene nr. A DRAMATIC POEM. 61 

Take your leave in the mean time of the Queen, 
And bid the Prince farewell. 

ALBA. 

1 saw him quit 
This room, his mien like one beside himself. 
Your Royal Majesty also appears 
Deeply excited — Possibly the subject 
Of conversation? 

PHILIP. 

(after pacing backwards and forwards) 
Was the Duke Alba. 
(the King remains with his eyes steadily fixed on him) 
— That Carlos hates my Councillors, I'm pleas'd 
To hear, but with displeasure I discover 
That he despises them. 

ALBA. 

(changes colour ready to burst into a passion) 

PHILIP. 

No answer now. 
I give you leave to reconcile the Prince. 

ALBA. 

Sire! 

PHILIP. 

Tell me who it was, who warn'd me first 
Of my son's dark designs? I listen* d then 
To you and not to him. I venture, Duke, 
To make th' experiment ; Carlos henceforth 
Stands nearer to my throne. Withdraw ! 
(the King retires into the Cabinet. The Duke exit 
by another door. 



62 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



SCENE IV. 

An Ante-room leading to the Queen's apartment. 
Don Carlos comes in through the middle door, in 
conversation with a Page. The attendants who 
are in the Ante-room at his approach disperse in- 
to the adjoining rooms. 

CARLOS. 

A letter for me? What's this key for then? 

And both deliver'd so mysteriously'? 

Come nearer! — Where did'st thou receive this? 

page, (full of mystery) 

As 

The lady led me to suppose, she would 
Prefer to have it guess'd, rather than told — 

carlos. {drawing back) 

The lady? 

(observing the Page more closely) 
What? How? Who may you be then? 

PAGE. 

A Page, Prince, of her Majesty the Queen — 

CARLOS. 

(approaching him alarnCd and putting his hand on 
his mouth) 

Thou diest. Hold. I know enough. 

(He breaks open the seal hastily and goes to the far- 
ther end of the room to read the letter. Mean- 
while comes Duke Alba, and goes unperceiv'd by 
the Prince past him into the Queen's apartment. 
Carlos begins to tremble violently, and changes 
colour alternately pale and red. When he has 
read the letter, he stands a long time speechless, 
his eyes fixed steadily on it. — At last he turns to 
the Page) 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



63 



She gave thee 

Herself this letter. 

PAGE. 

With her very hand. 

CARLOS. 

She really gave it thee her very self. 

O ! mock me not ! I have as yet read nothing 

In her hand-writing; 1 most credit thee, 

If thou can'st swear it. If it be a lie, 

Confess it to me honestly, and practice 

No fraud upon me. 

PAGE. 

Upon whom ? 

CARLOS. 

(Looks at the letter again, and watches the Page 
with a searching gaze. After he has paced once 
across the room) 

Thou hast 

Still parents ? Yes? Thy father serves the King, 
And is a native of this land? 

PAGE. 

He fell 

At Saint Quentin, a Colonel of Dragoons 
Under the Duke of Savoy, and his name 
Alonzo Count Henarez. 

CARLOS. 

(taking him by the hand and fixing his eyes on him 
significantly) 

Did the King 

Give thee this letter? 

page, (sensitively) 

Gracious Prince ! Do I 

Merit suspicion? 

Carlos, (reads the letter) 
" This key will open 
" The back apartment in the Queen's Pavilion. 



64 



DON CARLOS, 



act. ir. 



" The last of all is next a Cabinet, 

" Wherein no list'ners' footsteps lose themselves. 

"Here love may venture freely and aloud 

"To utter what it dare so long but hint. 

"A hearing waits the timid lover here, 

"And sweet reward the discreet sufferer." 

(as if awaken'd from a reverie) 
I do not dream — I do not rave — this, this 
Is my right arm — this is my sword, and these 
Are written characters — 'Tis true and real, 
I'm lov'd — I am — Yes— I am lov'd— I'm lov'd! 
(rushing out of the room above himself and raising 
his arms to Heaven) 

PAGE. 

You follow, Prince, I lead the way for you. 

CARLOS. 

Let me recover first my senses. — Does 
Not all the shock of this good fortune still 
Tremble within me? Have I hop'd so proudly? 
Have I had ever confidence to dream it? 
Where is the man t'accustom him so soon 
To be a God? — Who was I, and who am 
I now? This is another atmosphere, 
Another sun, that were not here before — 
She loves me ! 

PAGE. 

(endeavouring to lead him away) 
Prince, Prince, this is not the place — 
You do forget — 

CARLOS. 

(seized with a sudden numbness) 
The King— My father ! 
(he lets his arms drop, looks timidly around, and 
begins to collect himself) 

That 

Is horrible — Yes, quite right, friend. I thank thee. 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



05 



I was not altogether myself then — 
That I must keep eternal silence, and 
Immure within my bosom so much bliss, 
Is horrible. 'Tis horrible ! — 

(seizing the Page by the hand, and taking 
him aside) 

What thou hast seen — hear'st thou? Andwhat thou hast 

Not seen, let it lie buried in thy breast 

Deep as a coffin. Go now. I will find 

The way myself. Be gone. They must not come 

And find us here. Away — 

page, (is going) 

CARLOS. 

But hold! Yet listen! 
(The Page comes back, Carlos puts his hand on his 
shoulder, and looks him anxiously and solemnly in 
the face) 

Thou takest with thee a tremendous secret, 

Which, like that potent poison, breaks the cup 

In which it's plac'd — Keep a good mastery 

Over thy countenance. Let thy head not know 

What thy heart guards. Be like the dead ear-trumpet 

Which ever and anon receives the sound, 

Communicates it, but itself hears not. 

Thou art a boy — be always so, go, play 

Thy joyous part — how well the cunning writer 

Knew how to choose the messenger of love ! 

The King finds not his crawling vipers here. 

PAGE. 

And I, my Prince, I shall be proud of it, 
To know that I am richer by this secret 
Than e'en the King himself — 

CARLOS. 

Young, boasting fool, 
That is the thing which thou must tremble for. 
Should we meet accidentally in public, 



DON CARLOS, 



act. u. 



Approach me timidly and with respect — 

Let not thy pride induce thee e'er to hint 

How kind the Infante is to thee. Thou can'st 

Not sin more grievously, my son, than if 

Thou pleasest me. What thou may'st have to bring 

To me in future, breath it not in words, 

Trust it not to thy lips; let not thy news 

Adopt the ordinary course of thought. 

Speak with thine eyes, with thy fore-finger thou, 

And I will hear with looks. The air, the light 

Around us here, all are King Philip's creatures; 

The very palace walls are in his pay — 

Some one is coming — 

(The door of the Queen's apartment opens and Duke 
Alba comes out). 

Off! We meet again ! ' 

PAGE. 

Only miss not the right apartment, Prince ! 

(exit) 

CARLOS. 

It is the Duke — no, no, I'll find the way. 



SCENE V. 
Don Carlos. Duke Alba. 

alba, (coming in his way) 
Two words, most gracious Prince. 

CARLOS. 

Well — very well — 
Another time — (going) 

ALBA. 

In truth this spot appears 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



67 



Not the most suitable. Perhaps 'twill please 
Your Royal Highness to vouchsafe me audience 
In your apartment? 

CARLOS. 

Why so ? It can be 
As well done here. — Only be quick, and brief— 

ALBA. 

The special object which has brought me hither, 
Is to deliver my respectful thanks 
Unto your Highness for — 

CARLOS. 

Thanks? Thanks to me? 
For what then? — And thanks from Duke Alba too? 

ALBA. 

For scarcely had you left the King's apartment. 
When I was order'd to set out for Brussels. 

CARLOS. 

Brussels ! Indeed ! 

ALBA. 

To what else can I then 
Attribute it, my Prince, except to your 
Kind intercession with his Majesty? 

CARLOS. 

To me? No, not to me at all — not me— 
You travel — God be with you ! 

ALBA. 

Nothing else? 
That makes me marvel — Has your Royal Highness 
No farther orders for me then in Flanders? 

CARLOS. 

What else ? What there ? 

ALBA. 

Not long ago it seem'd 
The fortune of these Provinces requir'd 
Don Carlos' special presence. 



68 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



CARLOS. 

How so ? Yes — 
'Tis true — it was so formerly — now 'tis 
Quite right, so much the better — 

ALBA. 

With surprise 

I hear — 

carlos. (without irony) 
You are an able General — 
Who knows it not? E'en Envy must admit it. 
I — I am a young* man. The King too was 
Of this opinion. The King is quite right. 
I am convinc'd of it now, I'm content, 
Enough of this. I wish you a good journey. 
I can, as you perceive, now absolutely — 
Just now I'm somewhat over-occupied — 
The rest to-morrow, or whene'er you will, 
When you come back again from Brussels — 

ALBA. 

How! 

CARLOS. 

(After a pause as he sees that the Duke still 
remains) 

The time of year is favourable — Your route 
Takes you by Milan, Lorraine, Burgundy, 
And Germany — Yes Germany? Right, 'twas 
In Germany ! They know you there ! — It is 
Now April — May — June — in July, quite right, 
Early in August at the latest, you 
Will be in Brussels. Oh ! I do not doubt 
We very soon shall hear of victories. 
You will know how to prove yourself to be 
Worthy of our most gracious confidence. 

alba, (significantly) 
Shall I do this then with a piercing sense 
Of my own utter insignificance? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



69 



CARLOS. 

{after a pause, with dignity and haughtiness) 
You're irritable, Duke, and justly so. 
It was, I must admit it, on my part 
Want of forbearance, to employ against you 
Weapons, with which you are unable to 
Retaliate against me. 

ALBA. 

Am unable? 

CARLOS. 

(smiling holding out his hand to him) 
'Tis pity that I have not leisure now 
To fight this famous battle out with Alba — 
Another time — 

ALBA. 

Prince, we miscalculate 
In opposite directions. For example, 
You fancy yourself older than you are 
By twenty years, and I consider you 
Just so much younger than you really are. 

CARLOS. 

Well? 

ALBA. 

And therewith it comes across my mind, 
How many nights the Monarch would have giv'n 
Beside his lovely spouse from Portugal, 
Your mother, just to purchase for his crown 
An arm like this. He might have known full well, 
How much more easy 'tis to create Kings 
Than Kingdoms — how much quicker one provides 
The world with Monarchs, than Monarchs with a world. 

CARLOS. 

Very true ! Yet, Duke Alba, yet — 

ALBA. 

And how 

Much blood, blood of your people must be shed, 



70 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



Before two drops could make a King of you. 

CARLOS. 

Very true, by Heav'n ! And in two words compris'd 
All that the pride of merit has to urge 
In opposition to the pride of fortune — 
Now for the application then, Duke Alba. 

ALBA. 

Woe to the delicate, weak cradle-child, 

To Majesty, that scorns its foster-nurse! 

How gently may it lie it down to sleep 

On the soft cushion of our victories ! 

Pearls only glitter on the coronet, 

And not the wounds by which it was obtain'd — 

This sword on foreign nations has impos'd 

The laws of Spain, before the crucified 

It flash'd, and in this quarter of the world 

Trac'd bloody furrows for the seed of faith : 

God was the Judge in Heaven, I on earth — 

CARLOS. 

Or God or Devil, it is much the same ! 

You were his right arm. That I know full well — 

And now no more of this, I beg of you. 

From certain recollections willingly 

I'd guard myself, and I respect the choice 

My father makes. My father needs an Alba; 

But that he needs him, is not just the thing, 

Which I should envy him. You are a great man — 

That even may be; I almost believe it. 

All that 1 fear is that you are arriv'd 

Some thousand years too soon. An Alba were 

The man, if I might say so, to appear 

At the end of time ! Then when Heav'n's forbearance 

The giant hardihood of sin has quite 

Exhausted, the rich harvest of transgression 

Stands in full ear, and requires a reaper 

Without example, at that moment you 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



71 



Are in your place. — O ! God ! My Paradise ! 
My Flanders! But I must not think so now. 
Silence on that ! They say you take with you 
A store of sentences of death all sign'd 
Beforehand ! A most commendable foresight! 
There's no more fear then of chicanery — 
How ill, my father, have I understood 
Thy meaning ! I charg'd thee with harshness in 
Refusing to me a commission, where 
Thy Albas shine — It was the beginning 
Of thy regard. 

ALBA. 

That word deserv'd, Prince — 

carlos. {flying into a passion) 
What! 

ALBA. 

But the King's son is your protection there. 

carlos. {feeling for his sword) 
That requires blood! — Duke, draw your sword. 

alba, (coolly) 

On whom ? 
carlos. (advancing hastily towards him) 
Draw, Duke, I run you thro'. 

alba, (draws) 

If it must be so— 

(they fight). 



SCENE VI. 
The Queen. Don Carlos. Duke Alba. 

queen. 

(who comes out of her room in alarm) 
What! Naked swords! 

(to the Prince, displeased, but in a beseeching tone) 

Carlos! 



7-2 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



CARLOS. 

(At the Queen's glance beside himself, lets his arms 
drop and stands senseless and motionless, then 
rushes towards the Duke and kisses him) 

Forgiveness, Duke! 

Let all be reconcil'd! 

(he throws himself at the Queen's feet in silence, 
jumps up suddenly, and hurries away above him- 
self) 

ALBA. 

(Who stands full of astonishment, and does not take 
his eyes off them) 

By Heaven ! That 

Is strange indeed. 

QUEEN. 

(stands some minutes uneasy and in doubt, then 
goes slowly towards her room, at the door she 
turns round) 

Duke Alba ! 
(The Duke follows her into her room). 



SCENE VII. 

A cabinet of the Princess Eboli. 

The Princess in an elegant but simple fancy dress, 
plays the lute and sings. Then the Queen's Page. 

princess, (starts up hastily) 

He is coming ! 
page, (abruptly) 
Are you alone ? I'm very much surpris'd 
I do not find him here already : but 



scene vii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



73 



He must make his appearance instantly. 

PRINCESS. 

Must he ? Now then he will ? 'Tis certain then — 

PAGE. 

He follows at my heels — O! gracious Princess, 
You are belov'd — belov'd, belov'd like you, 
No one can be, and no one yet has been. 
Oh! What a scene I witness'd! 

PRINCESS. 

(draws him to her full of impatience) 

Quick ! Thou spok'st 
To him ! Out with it all ! What did he say? 
What was his demeanour ? What were his words? 
Did he appear embarrass'd ? Did he seem 
Astonish'd? Did he guess the person who 
Sent him the key? Quick — Or did he not guess? 
Did he not guess at all? Did he guess wrong? 
Now? Hast thou no reply for me at all ? 
O ! Fie ! Fie, shame on thee ; thou never wert 
So wooden, so insufferably slow. 

PAGE. 

Can I reply, most gracious one? The key 
And letter I deliver'd in his hands 
In the Queen's ante-room. He started, and 
Look'd in my face, as the words escap'd me, 
A lady sent me. 

PRINCESS. 

Did he start? Well! Well! 
Very good ! — Proceed, relate what follow'd then. 

PAGE. 

I wish'd to have said more, when he turn'd pale, 
And tore the letter from my hand, and look'd 
Threat'ningly at me, saying, he knew all. 
The letter with confusion he read thro', 
At once began to tremble. 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



PRINCESS. 

He knew all? 
He knew all ? Did he say so ? 

PAGE. 

And he ask'd 
Me three times, four times, if your very self, 
You really did yourself give me the letter? 

PRINCESS. 

If I myself? Did he mention me by name? 

PAGE. 

The name — No, that he mention'd not. — He said, 
Some spy might hear, and prattle to the King. 

princess, (surprised) 
Did he say that? 

PAGE. 

He said 'twas matter of 
Amazing import to the King, immense 
Importance, most particular, to have 
Intelligence of this letter. 

PRINCESS. 

The King? 

Did'st thou hear right? The King? Thou'rt very sure 
That was th' expression he made use of? 

PAGE. 

Yes! 

He caird it a tremendous secret, and 
Charg'd me to be at all times on my guard. 
Never by words or looks to give the King 
The least cause of suspicion. 

PRINCESS. 

(after consideration, full of astonishment) 
All agrees — 
It can be nothing else — he must have heard 
The story. — 'Tis incomprehensible! 
Who can have told him? — Who? I ask again — 
Who sees so sharply, as the eagle-eye 



scene vii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



75 



Of love? Go on, tell me the rest : he read 
The letter— 

PAGE. 

He said, the letter contain'd 
Good fortune, for the consequence of which 
He trembled : which he ne'er was bold enough 
To dream of. Most unluckily the Duke 
Enter'd the room that moment, this oblig'd us — 

princess, (angrily) 
What can the Duke have possibly to do 
There now ? Where is he ? What delays him ? Why 
Does he not show himself? — See'st thou how they 
Have mis-inform'd thee ? How completely happy 
He had been made in the short space of time, 
Thou needed'st to tell me, he would be so ! 

PAGE. 

The Duke, I fear— 

PRINCESS. 

The Duke again ? What does he 
Want here ? What has the warrior to do 
With my retirement? He could let him stay, 
Or send him off. Whom in the world can one 
Not do so to ? — In very truth ! Thy Prince 
As little understands e'en love itself, 
As he appears to do the ladies' hearts. 
He does not know what minutes are — Hush ! Hush ! 
I hear him coming. Off. It is the Prince. 

(Page hurries away) 
Away, away — Where have I put my lute ? 
He must take me by surprise — My singing 
Shall be his guide. 



k 2 



7(1 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



SCENE VIII. 
The Princess, soon after Don Carlos, 
princess. 

(has thrown herself on the ottoman and plays) 

CARLOS. 

(Rushes in. He recognizes the Princess, and stands 
as if thunderstruck) 

Where ami? 

PRINCESS. 

(lets her lute Jail. Going towards him) 
Ah! Prince Carlos'? 

Ah ! Yes in very truth ! 

CARLOS. 

Where am I then ? 
Mad blunder — I have miss'd the right apartment. 

PRINCESS. 

How well Carl understands it, to observe 
Th' apartments where the ladies are without 
Witnesses. 

CARLOS. 

Princess — pardon me — Princess — 
I found — I found the Ante-room door open. 

PRINCESS. 

How is that possible ? For certainly 
It seems to me that I shut it myself. 

CARLOS. 

It only seems to you, it seems to you — 
But be assur'd! you are mistaken. That 
You meant to shut it, yes, I grant you so, 
That I believe — but shut ? in very truth 
Shut it was not. I heard some one playing 



scene vm. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



7? 



Upon a lute — Was it not a lute? 

(looking doubtfully about him) 
Right ! 

Yes, there it lies — A lute — God knows — A lute; 
Which I love to madness. I am all ear, 
I know not what I'm doing, start into 
Th' apartment of the lovely artist, who 
Touch' d me so sweetly, who enchanted me 
So pow'rfully, to see her charming face. 

PRINCESS. 

An amiable imprudence, which you check'd 
As quick as possible, as I observ'd. 

(after a pause, significantly) 
Oh ! I must duly prize the modest man, 
Who in such falsehoods will involve himself 
To spare a woman's blushes. 

carlos. (open-heartedly) 
Oh! lfeel 
Myself, Princess, I only make it worse, 
Trying to make it better. O ! excuse me 
A part, I am wholly incapable 
Of acting. In this Cabinet you sought 
Retirement from the world. Here you desir'd, 
Not over-heard by men, to gratify 
Your heart's unwhisper'd passion. I intrude, 
Son of misfortune ; and your charming dream 
Vanishes — Therefore my immediate 
Departure shall — (going) 

PRINCESS. 

(surprised and confounded, quickly recovering 
herself) 
Oh! that's malicious, Prince! 

CARLOS. 

Princess, I understand the meaning of 
These looks in this apartment, and I do 
Respect this virtuous embarrassment. 



78 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



Woe to the man, to whom a woman's blush 
Gives courage ! I grow instant coward-hearted 
If females tremble in my presence. 

PRINCESS. 

Can it 

Be possible? What unexampled conscience 
In a young man, and he a King's son too ! 
Yes, Prince, — now must you really stay with me, 
I beg you now myself: a maiden's fears 
By so much virtue must be set at ease. 
You must know then your sudden apparition 
Disturb'd me in a very fav'rite air. 
(she leads him to the sofa, and takes up her lute 
again) 

The air, Prince Carlos, I must play once more ; 
Your punishment shall be to listen to it. 

CARLOS. 

(sits down beside the Princess, not quite at 
his ease) 
A punishment, as enviable as 
My error — and in truth the subject was 
So welcome to me, so divinely sweet, 
That I could listen to it — a third time. 

PRINCESS. 

What? Have you heard it all? That's shameful, Prince, 
The words, if I remember, were of Love ! 

CARLOS. 

And, I mistake not, of a happy one — 
The prettiest subject in this pretty mouth, 
But not so true as pretty certainly. 

PRINCESS. 

Not? Not so true? — And do you doubt it too? 

Carlos, (earnestly) 
I certainly have doubts if Carlos and 
The Princess Eboli would be agreed, 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



79 



If Love were to be treated of. 

(the Princess starts: he observes it and proceeds 
with easy gallantry) 

For who, 

Who would believe it of these rosy cheeks, 
That passion rages in this bosom? Does 
The Princess Eboli incur the risk 
Of sighing in vain, unlisten'd to? He knows 
Love only, who loves on without a hope. 

PRINCESS. 

(with all her former sprightliness) 
Hush ! Hush ! That sounds so terrible — In truth 
And this fate seems to-day especially 
Above all others to have follow'd you. 
(taking hold of his hand, and with flattering in- 
terest) 

You are not in good spirits, my dear Prince — 

You suffer — yes, by Heav'n ! you suffer much. 

Is't possible? And wherefore suffer, Prince? 

With this loud call t' enjoyment of the world, 

With all your claim upon the joys of life ? 

You — a great Monarch's son, and more, much more 

Than this, you even in your Princely cradle 

Endow'd with parts, which cast into the shade 

The splendour of your rank? You — who in all 

Women's strict courts have judges in your favour, 

Women who pass sentence exclusively 

Without appeal on men's worth and renown ? 

Who with a glance alone victorious, 

Kindle a flame where you are cold, and where 

You feel a passion, must communicate 

The bliss of Heav'n, the transport of the Gods — 

A being on whom Nature has bestow'd 

A thousand gifts of fortune, such as she 

Has lavish'd on but few, that very man 

Should he be pitiable? 0! Heav'n, who gav'st 



80 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



Him all, why hast thou then denied him eyes 
Alone, with which to see his victory? 

CARLOS. 

(who the whole time has been sunk in the deepest 
distraction, is at the pause of the Princess sudden- 
ly brought to himself', and starts up.) 
Excellent! Most incomparable ! Princess. 
I pray thee, sing me that passage once more. 

princess, (looks at him astounded.) 
Carlos, where have you been then all this time ? 

carlos. (jumps up) 
By Heav'n yes ! You have brought it to my mind 
Most opportunely — I must — must away, 
Must instantly away. 

princess, (holds him back) 
Whither? 

carlos. (in fearful excitement) 
Below 

Into the open air — Unloose me — Princess, 
It seems to me the world behind me smokes 
In flames — 

princess, (holds him back forcibly) 
What ails you? Whence this singular, 
Unnatural demeanour? 

(Carlos stops and considers, she seizes this moment to 
draw him to her on the sofa) 
You require 
Repose, dear Carl — Your blood is even now 
In hot excitement — Sit you down by me — 
Away with these dark phantoms of your brain ! 
These feverish paroxysms ! Ask yourself 
The question candidly, if your head knows 
What preys upon your heart? If it e'en knows, 
Of all the Knights about the Court could none, 
Of all the ladies could not one be found — 
To heal you — I would say, to comprehend you — 



scene viir. A DRAMATIC POEM. 81 

Is not one worthy there among them all? 

carlos. (flighty and thoughtless) 
Perhaps the Princess Eboli? — 

princess, (joyous and eagerly) 
Really! 

CARLOS. 

Give me a letter to my father — a — 
Recommendation — Give it me — They say 
You have great influence with him. 

PRINCESS. 

Who says so? 

(Aside) Ha! 'twas suspicion which has made thee dumb. 

CARLOS. 

The story's current probably. I have 

A sudden fancy in my head to go 

To Brabant, merely — to deserve my spurs. 

My father will not suffer me — Good father, 

He thinks if I took the command of troops — 

My singing might be injur'd by it. 

PRINCESS. 

Carlos ! 

You play me false. Confess you wish to slip 
Away from me in these snake-like twistings. 
Hypocrite, here detected ! Face to face ! 
He who of feats of Knighthood only dreams, 
Will he? — avow it — will he condescend 
Also so low with eagerness to steal 
Ribbons away, which drop from ladies — and— 
Excuse me — 

(in the mean time with a slight motion of her finger 
she unbuttons his frill, and takes out a bunch of 
ribbon which was concealed in it) 

take such precious care of them? 
carlos. (drawing back with surprise) 
Princess — No ! that's too much — I am betray'd. 
One cannot deceive you, — You are in league 



82 



DON CARLOS. 



ACT II. 



With spirits and with daemons. 

PRINCESS. 

Are you then 
Surpris'd on this account? On this account? 
What will you wager, Prince, that I recall 
Not circumstances to you — circumstances — 
Make you the trial ; question me thereon. 
If e'en the trickery of humour, if 
A sound suppress' d as soon as utter'd, if 
A smile in sober earnest instant lost, 
If even looks and change of countenance, 
Where your thoughts wander'd, escap'd not my notice, 
Judge you, if I have understood, when you 
Wish'd to be understood? 

CARLOS. 

That truly is 
Right venturous — The bet shall stand, Princess. 
You promise to make me discoveries 
In my own heart of which I never knew. 

PRINCESS. 

(somewhat irritably and seriously) 
Never, Prince? Recollect yourself. Examine 
The state of your own heart. This is not one 
Of the apartments of the Queen, wherein 
A bit of masquerade perhaps may be 
Found commendable. — Are you startled? Do 
You blush so deeply all at once? O! truly 
Who would so lynx-ey'd, so impertinent, 
So idle be, to keep a secret watch 
O'er Carlos, if he thinks he's unobserv'd? 
Who notic'd it how at the last Court ball 
He let the Queen, his partner, dance alone, 
And into the next couple forc'd himself, 
To give his hand to Princess Eboli 
'Stead of his Royal partner? A mistake, 
Which, Prince, did not escape the notice of 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM, 



Even the King, who enter'd at the moment ! 

carlos. (with an ironical smile) 
Not even himl Really, my good Princess, 
For him that was not so remarkable. 

PRINCESS. 

As little as that scene of which Prince Carlos 

Has no remembrance in the Castle chapel. 

You at the feet of the Holy Virgin knelt 

Absorb'd in meditation, on a sudden — 

Was it your fault? When certain ladies' clothes 

Rustled behind you. Then Don Philip's son, 

The lion-hearted, all anon began 

To tremble like a heretic before 

The Inquisition : on his pale lips died 

The pray'r profan'd in the confusion of 

Excited feelings — 'Twas a farce to strike 

One deeply, Prince — You grasp the icy hand, 

The holy hand of the Mother of God, 

And on the marble burning kisses rain. 

CARLOS. 

Princess, you do me an injustice. That— 
That was devotion. 

PRINCESS. 

Yes, Prince? Then that is 
Another thing. Forsooth 'twas only fear 
Of losing, that as Carlos sat at play 
Between the Queen and me, with wonderful 
Adroitness having stol'n this glove from me— 

(Carlos jumps up startled) 
Directly after he was so polite 
'Stead of a card to play it out again. 

CARLOS. 

O! God— O! God— 0! God! — What have I done? 

PRINCESS. 

O! nothing that you will retract I hope. 
How trembled I with joy, when I receiv'd 

l 2 



81 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



So unexpectedly the little note 
Which you found means to hide inside the glove. 
'Tvvas a romance, Prince, the most touching which — 
carlos. (suddenly interrupting her) 
Poetry ! Nothing further — My hot brain 
Engenders often bubbles the most strange, 
Which burst again as quickly as they rose. 
'Tvvas merely that. No more of this I pray. 

PRINCESS. 

(retreating from him with astonishment, and observ- 
ing him a long time at a distance) 
I am exhausted — all my stratagems 
Glance off from this strange snake-like personage. 

(she is silent a moment) 
But how? — Was it man's over-bearing pride 
Which only, to amuse itself the more, 
Requir'd the mask of diffidence ? Yes ! Yes ! 
(she approaches the Prince again, and looks at him 
doubling ly) 

Explain yourself then, Prince, to me at last — 
I stand before a door by magic clos'd, 
Which all my keys are useless to unlock. 

CARLOS. 

As I do before you. 

PRINCESS. 

(she leaves him hastily, walks sometime up and down 
the cabinet in silence, appearing to think of some- 
thing important. At length after a pause, serious- 
ly and earnestly) 

Be it so then — 
1 must make up my mind to speak once more. 
I choose you for my judge. You are a man — 
A noble personage — a Prince — a Knight — 
I throw myself on your compassion. You 
Will save me, Prince, or if I'm lost without 
Hope of redemption, you will share my grief. 



scene vin. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



85 



(The Prince draws nearer with astonishment, full of 

expectation and sympathy) 
One of the King's fool-hardy favorites 
Pays court to me — Ruy Gomez, Count of Silva — 
The King*, the bargain is already made, 
Wishes me to his creature to be sold. 

carlos. (violently agitated) 
Be sold? And sold again ? Again, and by 
The famous merchant in the South'? 

PRINCESS. 

No! First 
Hear all. 'Tis not enough to sacrifice 
Me to their politics, they lay a trap 
Against my innocence — There! Here! This note 
Unmasks the sacred character. 

(Carlos takes the paper and hangs full of impatience 
on her narrative, loithout taking time to read it) 

Where shall 
I find a rescue, Prince? Till now it was 
My pride, which sav'd my virtue: but at last — 

CARLOS. 

At last you fell ? You yielded 1 ? No, no, no! 
For God's sake, no ! 

PRINCESS. 

(proudly and with dignity) 
Thro' whom ? Poor sophistry ! 
How weak of these strong spirits! Women's favour, 
Success in love to hold in the same light 
As merchandise, which may be bargain'd for ! 
Love which alone of all things on this earth 
Allows no purchaser besides itself. 
Love is the price of love. A diamond 
Of inestimable value, which I 
Must freely give, or bury unenjoy'd 
For ever — like the noble-minded merchant 
Who proof against the gold of the Rialto, 



BO 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT 



And as a taunt to Kings, to the rich sea 

Gave back his pearls, too proud to let them go 

At a less price than their intrinsic value. 

CRALOS. 

(Aside) O! God of wonders! — She is beautiful! 

PRINCESS. 

Call it caprice — conceit: 'tis all the same — 
I divide not my happiness. The man, 
The single individual, whom I 
Select me, give I all for all to him. 
I give once only, but eternally. 
One only will my love make happy — One — 
But that one individual a God. 
Th' ecstatic union of souls — a kiss — 
The rapturous enjoyment of the hours 
When lovers drink the full excess of bliss — 
The high, the heav'nly charm of loveliness, 
Are the twin-sister colours of one ray, 
Are leaves but of one flower. Shall I then, 
Mad that I were, pluck off a single leaf 
From the fair chalice of this flow'r, to give 't 
Away? Shall I myself then mutilate 
Woman's high Majesty, the masterpiece 
Of the divinity, to gratify 
The appetite of a voluptuary? 

carlos. (Aside) 
Incredible ! How then? And such a creature 
Madrid contains, and I — I find it out 
To-day for the first time ? 

PRINCESS. 

I had this Court 
Left long ago, from this world long retir'd, 
T' entomb me in some cloister's holy walls ; 
But that one single tie continues still, 
A tie which rivets me all-pow'rfully 
Unto this world. Ah ! Perhaps a phantom ! 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



87 



But still so dear to me ! I love and am 
Not lov'd. 

CARLOS. 

{full of fire approaching her) 
You are ! As true as God's in Heav'n. 
I swear it. You are lov'd unspeakably. 

PRINCESS. 

You swear it? You? O! 'twas my Angel's voice ! 
Yes, if you really swear so, Carl, then I 
Believe it, then I am so. 

CARLOS. 

(folding her tenderly in his arms) 
Lovely maiden, 
Worthy of adoration ! Full of soul ! 
Spell-bound 1 stand all ear — all eyes — all rapture- 
All admiration. Who could ever see thee, 
Who see thee 'neath the canopy of Heav'n, 
And boast — he never lov'd ? Here in King* Philip's 
Court too? What dost thou here, sweet Angel, here? 
'Mid priests and priestly herds? This is no clime 
For such a flow'r. — Would they destroy it? Yes— 
That would they, I believe it. No, by Heav'n ! 
As truly as I breathe they shall not ! I 
Will twine mine arm around thee, — on mine arm 
Will bear thee thro' this devil-peopled hell ! 
Yes — Let me be thine Angel. — 

princess, (with the full look of love) 
O! Carlos! 

How little have I known you ! How richly, 
How unboundedly does your dear heart reward 
The difficulty of obtaining it ! 

(she takes his hand going to kiss it) 
carlos. (who draws it back) 
Princess, where are you now? 



an 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IT. 



PRINCESS. 

(with delicacy and grace while she looks steadily at 
his hand.) 

How fair this hand ! 
How rich it is! — This hand, Prince, has two gifts 
Most precious to bestow — A diadem 
And Carlos' heart — and both perhaps upon 
One mortal? — upon one? a glorious gift 
Divine! — Too great almost for one mortal! 
How, Prince! If you could make your mind up to 
Divide them — Queens, they know not how to love — 
A woman, that can really love, knows not 
How to be a Queen ! So much the better, 
That you divide them, and immediately, 
At once, Prince — How? Or had you done so now? 
You really had? O ! then so much the better! 
And do I know this happy one? 

CARLOS. 

Thou shalt. 
To thee, maiden, to' thee will I reveal 
The secret of my heart — To innocence, 
To nature pure and unprofan'd will I 
Discover all. Thou art the worthiest, 
The only one, the first about this Court, 
Who understands completely my whole soul — 
Yes then ! I disavow it not — I love ! 

PRINCESS. 

Malicious man ! And was the declaration 
So difficult to make ? Must I be such 
An object of compassion, should'st thou find 
Me worthy of thy love? 

carlos. (starts) 

What? What is that? 

PRINCESS. 

O! such a game to play with me ! In truth, 
Prince, 'twas not fair ! To disavow the key ! 



scene vnr. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



89 



CARLOS. 

The key ! The key ! 

(after silent reflection,) 
Yes ! just so — so it was — 
Now I discover it— O ! God ! My God ! 
(his knees tremble, he supports himself on a chair and 
hides his face,) 

PRINCESS. 

(A long pause on both sides. The Princess screams 

aloud and falls,) 
Detestable! What have I done? 

CARLOS. 

{coming to himself. With an expression of the 
deepest pain,) 

So low 

Am I cast down from all my fancied Heav'n ! — 
Oh! that is terrible indeed! 

PRINCESS. 

(hiding her face in the cushion,) 
O! God! 
What a discov'ry have I made ! 

CARLOS. 

(throwing himself at her feet) 
I am not 

To blame, Princess — Passion — unfortunate 
Misunderstanding — By Heav'n ! I am not 
To blame ! 

princess, (pushes him from her) 
Away, out of my sight for God's sake — 

CARLOS. 

Never ! To leave you in this terrible 
Convulsion ? 

PRINCESS. 

(pushing him away forcibly) 
For compassion's sake, for sake 
Of generosity out of my sight !— 

M 



90 DON CARLOS, act. ir. 

Will you murder me? I hate the sight of you ! 

{Carlos is going) 
My letter and my key give back to me. 
What have you done with that other letter? 

CARLOS. 

The other ? What other then ? 

PRINCESS. 

That from the King. 

CARLOS. 

(exclaiming at the same time) 

From whom ? 

PRINCESS. 

The one which you receiv'd from me 

Some time since. 

CARLOS. 

From the King? To whom ? To you? 

PRINCESS. 

O ! Heav'n ! How fearfully have I involv'd 
Myself! The letter ! Out with it ! 1 must 
Have it back ! 

CARLOS. 

Letters from the King, to you? 

PRINCESS. 

The letter ! In the name of all the Saints ! 

CARLOS. 

Which will unmask to me a certain person — 
This one? 

PRINCESS. 

I'm lost! — Give it me. 

CARLOS. 

The letter — 

PRINCESS. 

(wringing her hands in despair) 
What have I risk'd unthinkingly? 

CARLOS. 

The letter— 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



91 



Of the King? — Princess, that indeed has chang'd 
All in an instant. — 

(holding out the letter exultingly) 
An invaluable — 
Important — precious letter — which all the crowns 
Of Philip are too insignificant, 
Too worthless to redeem. — The letter I 
Keep charge of. 

(exit) 

PRINCESS. 

(throws herself in his ivay) 
I am lost ! — Great God ! I'm lost ! — 



SCENE IX. 
The princess alone. 

(She stands still stunned and unable to collect hei*- 
self ; when he is gone out, she hurries after him, 
and would call him bach) 

Prince, one more word. Prince, hear me. He is gone! 

And that too ! He despises me — Here stand 

I fearfully alone — repudiated, 

Rejected — 

(she sinks down in a chair. After a pause) 
No ! only supplanted by, 
Supplanted by a rival. He's in love. 
There is no longer doubt. He has himself 
Confess' d it. Who then is this happy one? — 
So much is clear — he loves, what he should not. 
He fears discovery. Before the King 
His passion creeps away to hide itself — 
Why before him who wish'd it? — Or is't not 

M 2 



92 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



The father, in the father that he fears'? 

When the King's rival purpose was betray'd — 

How his looks spoke his joy, he exulted 

Like one made happy f . . .How came it to pass, 

His rigid virtue was e'en silent 
Here? even here? What can he mean by it, 
What can he have to gain, because the King 
The Queen's — 

(she stops suddenly as if struck by an idea, — She 
immediately tears from her bosom the bow which 
Carlos had given her, looks at it quickly and 
recognises it) 

Fool that I am ! At last — at last — 
Where were my senses'? Now my eyes are open'd — 
They lov'd each other long before the King 
Paid court to her. The Prince never saw me 
Without her — She too, she was meant, the while 
I fancied myself so transportingly, 
So truly, so unboundedly ador'd. 
O! a mistake, which is without example! 
And I've betray'd my weaknesses to her — 

(Pause) 

That he should love entirely without hope ! 

That I cannot believe — Love without hope 

Persists not in this struggle. To revel, 

Where the most brilliant Monarch on this earth 

Must sigh and languish and obtain no hearing — 

In very truth ! A sacrifice like this 

Love without hope is never wont to offer. 

How burning was his kiss ! How tenderly, 

How warm he press'd me to his beating heart ! 

'Twas almost too bold an experiment 

For a romantic constancy, which will 

Not be requited — He receives the key 

Which he persuades himself, the Queen had sent him — 

Believes in this gigantic step of love— 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



93 



He comes, comes truly, comes — such confidence 

Places he in the mad determination 

Of Philip's wife. — And how can he do this, 

If strongest proofs do not encourage him? 

'Tis clear as day. He's listen'd to. She loves ! 

By Heav'n, this holy one is touch'd ! How subtle 

She is! I trembled, I myself before 

This sublime bugbear of morality. 

By me she towers a super-human being. 

Her brilliancy extinguish'd me — I envied 

Her loveliness this noble calm, unsullied 

By all the weaknesses of human nature. 

And was this calm a mere pretence? Had she 

A longing wish to revel at both tables? 

Did she put on the God-like cloak of Virtue, • 

And forthwith venture to indulge herself 

In the forbidden fruit of secret Vice? 

Did she dare this? Shall she succeed in it, 

The impostor, with impunity? Succeed, 

Because Revenge finds no accuser? — No, 

By God! I have ador'd her — That demands 

Retaliation ! The King must be told 

Of the imposture — The King? 

(After thinking a little) 
Yes, yes, right — 
That is a certain way unto his ear. 

(exit) 



SCENE X. 
A Room in the Royal Palace, 

Duke Alba. Father Domingo. 

DOMINGO. 

What do you want to say to me ? 



94 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



ALBA. 

A weighty 
Discovery that I have made to day, 
Of which I wish an explanation. 

DOMINGO. 

What 

Discovery? What are you speaking of? 

ALBA. 

Prince Carlos and I met this morning in 

The ante-chamber of the Queen. I was 

Offended. We grew hot — and the dispute 

Wax'd somewhat loud. We drew our swords: the Queen 

Hearing the noise comes out of her apartment, 

Herself between us throws, and with a glance 

Of sov'reign confidence looks at the Prince. — 

It was a single glance. — His arm unnerv'd — 

He falls upon my neck — 1 feel a kiss, 

An ardent kiss — and he has disappear'd. 

(after a pause) 

DOMINGO. 

That is suspicious — very — You remind 

Me, Duke, of something. — Similar ideas 

Have long been planted in my breast, I own. — 

I chase these dreams away — To no one yet 

Have I communicated them. There are 

Two-edged blades, uncertain friends — I fear them. 

Difficult is it to discriminate 

Among mankind, but still more difficult 

To sift them throughly. Words let slip at random 

Are confidants offended — therefore I 

Have kept my secret buried in this bosom, 

Till time brought it to light. ? Tis critical 

To render certain services to Kings — 

A venturous shot, which if it miss the mark, 

Recoils upon the shooter. — What I say, 

1 would be able, Duke, to swear upon 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



The holy wafer — an eye-witness, or 
A word to take advantage of — a scrap 
Of paper would weigh heavier in the scale, 
Than my conviction, howe'er positive. — 
Accursed, that we are on Spanish soil ! 

ALBA. 

And why not here? 

DOMINGO. 

In ev'ry other Court 
Passion is liable to forget itself. 
Here it is warn'd by laws the most severe. 
The Queens of Spain find opportunities 
For sinning difficult — that I believe — 
But only there unluckily — precisely 
There only, where 'twould be most fortunate 
For us, if we should happen to surprise them. 

ALBA. 

Hear further — Carlos has had audience 

Of the King to-day. It lasted a whole hour. 

He begg'd to have the government of Flanders. 

Loud did he beg, and earnestly : I heard it 

In the Cabinet. His eyes were red with tears; 

When I met him at the door. At mid-day 

He wore a look of triumph. He is charm' d 

The King has given me the preference. 

He even thank'd him for it. Things are alter'd, 

He said, and for the better. Dissemble 

He never could, how can I reconcile 

These contradictions'? The Prince over-joy'd 

At being slighted, and the King confers 

A favor on me, with the strongest marks 

Of his displeasure — What am I to think? 

Certainly, this new dignity appears 

Much more like banishment, than Royal favour. 

DOMINGO. 

And is it really come to this ? To this ? 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



And does a moment shatter, what it cost 

Us years to build? And are you so unmov'd? 

So calm and tranquil? — Know you this young man? 

Know you what waits us when he is in power? — 

The Prince — I'm not his enemy — far other 

Cares gnaw at my repose, care for the Throne, 

For God, and for his Church. — The Infante 

(I know him well — I read his secret soul) 

Fosters a fearful project — Toledo — 

Th'extravagant project, to be Regent, 

And supersede our Church's holy creed. — 

His soul pants after some new code of virtue, 

Which proud and self-sufficient in its pow'rs 

Will beg from no belief. — He thinks ! His head 

Is heated with a paradoxical 

Chimsera — he respects mankind — Is he 

Fit, Duke, to be our King? 

ALBA. 

Phantoms ! What else ? 
Perhaps the vanity of youth e'en, which 
Would play a part. — Has he another choice? 
That will go off, when in the order of 
Succession, he is call'd upon to rule, 

DOMINGO. 

I doubt it. — Of his freedom he is proud, 

And unaccustom'd to endure controul, 

To which one must submit to purchase power. — 

Is he fit for our Throne ? This daring spirit 

With giant force will dash thro' our fix'd line 

Of policy. In vain have I essay' d 

To tame his hardy disposition down 

By the voluptuous habits of the age ; 

He has withstood temptation — Such a strength 

Of mind is terrible in such a person — 

And Philip too is sixty years of age. 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 

ALBA. 

Your views take a wide range. 

DOMINGO. 

He and the Queen 
Are one. Already in both breasts creeps on, 
Conceal'd 'tis true, the poison of reform : 
But soon enough, should it find means, it will 
Take hold upon the throne. I know this Valois. — 
We have to apprehend the full revenge 
Of this still enemy, should Philip suffer 
Himself to be surpris'd in a weak moment. 
Now fortune favours us, and we must be 
Beforehand with her. To entrap them both 
In the same snare. — A hint of it now giv'n, 
Or prov'd or not prov'd — we shall still have gain'd 
Already much, if the King should but waver. 
We, neither of us have the slightest doubt. 
It is not difficult for one convinc'd 
To convince another, and we connot fail 
To make further discoveries, if we 
Are satisfied beforehand we must make them. 

ALBA. 

Now then the most important of all questions ! 
Who takes upon himself t' inform the King? 

DOMINGO. 

Nor you, nor I. Hear what my industry 
Full of the great design a long time now 
Has quietly been driving tow'rds our mark. 
There still is wanting to complete our league, 
The third, the most important personage. — 
The King's in love with Princess Eboli. 
I foster the attachment, which advances 
My wishes. I am his Ambassador — 
I draw her in to share in our design. — 
In this young lady, should my plan succeed, 
An ally and a Queen shall bloom for us. 

N 



98 DON CARLOS, act. 11. 

She has herself just call'd me to this room. 
I have great hopes. Perhaps a Spanish maid 
May in a single night put out of bloom 
These lilies of Valois. 

ALBA. 

What do I hear? 
Is it the truth I have just heard? By Heav'n ! 
I am astonish'd! Yes! The stroke 's complete ! 
Dom can ! your stratagem inspires me 
With cvimiration. We've already won — 

DOMINGO. 

Silence ! Who comes? — 'Tis she — 'tis she herself. 

ALBA. 

I'm in th' adjoining room, should you — 

DOMINGO. 

Quite right! 

I call you. 

(Exit Duke Alba) 



SCENE XI. 
The Princess. Domingo. 

DOMINGO. 

At your service, gracious Princess. 

PRINCESS. 

{looking anxiously after the Duke) 
Are we not quite alone? You have, I see, 
A witness with you. 

DOMINGO. 

How? 

PRINCESS. 

Who went away 



SCENE XI. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



99 



This moment then? 

DOMINGO. 

Duke Alba, gracious Princess, 
Who after me begs leave to be admitted. 

PRINCESS. 

Duke Alba? What does he want? What can he 
Want? You perhaps can tell me what it is? 

DOMINGO. 

I? And before I know what circumstance 
Of import has procur'd me the good fortune 
So long denied me, to approach once more 
The Princess Eboli ? 

(a pause, while he waits for her answer) 
Has some event 
Occurr'd at last, which speaks in favour of 
The wishes of the King? Or have I grounds 
To hope that more deliberate reflection 
Has reconcil'd you to an offer, which 
Caprice and spleen alone rejected ? I 
Come full of expectation — 

PRINCESS. 

Did you give 
My message to the King ? 

DOMINGO. 

T have deferr'd 
Thus mortally to wound him. Gracious Princess, 
There is yet time, you still may soften it. 

PRINCESS. 

Inform the King, that I'm expecting him. 

DOMINGO. 

Lovely Princess, dare I take this for truth? 

PRINCESS. 

Certainly not for jest — By Heav'n, you make 

Me quite alarm'd. — How? What have I done then, 

That you — you even — you yourself change colour? 

N 2 



100 



[DON CARLOS, 



ACT ! 



DOMINGO. 

Princess, such a surprise — I scarcely now, 
Now comprehend it — 

PRINCESS. 

Yes! Right-worthy Sir, 
And you should not. For all that's precious to me 
On earth, 1 would not have you comprehend it. 
Enough for you it is so. Spare yourself 
The trouble of endeav'ring to find out 
Whose eloquence you are indebted to 
For this change. For your consolation I 
Assure you, in this sin you have no share. 
Nor truly has the Church : altho' you prov'd 
To me, that cases might occur, wherein 
The Church knows how to use the services 
Of its young daughters' persons, as a means 
To higher objects. But still not so here. — 
All such devout considerations are 
Too lofty for me, worthy sir — 

DOMINGO. 

Princess, 

If they're superfluous, I willingly 
Retract them. 

PRINCESS. 

Beg the Monarch on my part, 
Not to mistake me in this business. 
What I have been that am I still. The state 
Of things alone is alter'd since that time. 
When I refus'd indignantly his suit, 
I thought him bless'd in the possession of 
The fairest Queen — I thought the faithful wife 
Worthy my sacrifice. I thought so then — 
Then. — Now in truth, I know her better now. 

DOMINGO. 

Princess, proceed, proceed ! I hear it all, 
We understand each other. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



101 



PRINCESS. 

'Tis enough, 
She is detected. I spare her no more, 
Th' impostor is found out. The King, all Spain, 
And me has she deceiv'd. She loves. 1 know 
She loves. I can bring" forward proofs of it 
Must make her tremble. She deceiv'd the King — " 
He will not be so unreveng'd. The mask 
Of high and superhuman constancy 
I tear from off her brow, that all the world 
May see the sinner's countenance. It costs 
Me an enormous price, but — that, but that — 
Is rapture to me, that — that is my triumph — 
But to her a still greater. 

DOMINGO. 

Now all's ripe. 
Allow me to call in the Duke. 

(exit) 

princess, (astonished) 

What's that? 



SCENE XII. 

The Princess. Duke Alba. Domingo. 

domingo. 

(who brings in the Duke) 
Our news, Duke Alba, is come here too late. 
The Princess Eboli reveals to us 
A secret which she was to hear from us. 

ALBA. 

My visit then will cause you so much less 
Surprise, I trust not what I see myself. 



102 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. !!. 



Discoveries like these require the eye 
Of woman. 

PRINCESS. 

Speak you of discoveries'? — 

DOMINGO. 

Gracious Princess, we wish'd to know what place, 
And what is the best time — 

PRINCESS. 

And that too ! I 
Expect you then to-morrow at mid-day. 
I have good grounds no longer to conceal — 
To leave the King no longer ignorant 
Of this clandestine crime. 

ALBA. 

That is the thing 
Which brings us here. The King must be inform'd 
Instantly of the matter : and by you : 
By you, Princess, must he be told of it. 
Whom else, whom would he trust so willingly, 
As his wife's watchful, firm companion? 

DOMINGO. 

Whom, more than you, who can whene'er you will, 
Exercise o'er him absolute command? 

ALBA. 

I am the Prince's open enemy. 

DOMINGO. 

And they are wont to think the same of me. 
The Princess Eboli is free. Where we 
Must hold our tongues, Duty obliges you, 
The duties of your office, to speak out. 
The King is not unnotic'd by us; if 
Your hints begin to operate, then we 
Complete the work. 

ALBA. 

And that immediately : 
It must be done at once. Moments are precious. 



scene xn. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



103 



At any hour my orders may arrive 
For marching" — 

DOMINGO. 

(after a little consideration turning to the Princess) 
If some letters could be found? 
An intercepted letter from the Infante 
Truly would be most efficacious. — Let 
Me see. — Is 't not so ? — Yes. You sleep, methinks, 
In the same bed-room with the Queen. 

PRINCESS. 

The next 

To it.— But what have I to do with that? 

DOMINGO. 

Who understands the locks? — Have you observed 
Where she is wont to keep her casket-key? 

princess, (considering) 
Yes — that might lead to something — Yes — I think 
The key is to be found. — 

DOMINGO. 

And letters too 
Have need of messengers. — Her retinue 

Is numerous. Who could put us on the scent?— 

Most surely money would be efficacious — 

ALBA. 

Has no one e'er observed if the Infante 
Has any confidants? 

DOMINGO. 

Not one ; in all 

Madrid not one. 

ALBA. 

That is most singular. 

DOMINGO. 

You may believe me when I tell you, he 
Despises the whole Court ; I have my proofs. 

ALBA. 

How so? It just occurs to me, as I 



104 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



Came out of th' apartment of the Queen, 

Th' Infante stood there with one of her Pages ; 

And they were holding private conversation — 

PRINCESS. 

(suddenly interrupting him) 
No ! no ! That was — that was of something else. 

DOMINGO. 

Can we be sure of that? — The circumstance — 
No, 'tis suspicious. — 

(to the Duke) 
And you knew the Page? 

PRINCESS. 

Nonsense ! Some trifle ! What else could it be ? 
Enough ! I know it. — We shall meet again 
Before I tell the King. — In the mean time 
Much is to be discover'd. 

domingo. (taking her aside) 
And the King 
May hope? Dare I announce it him? For sure? 
And what sweet hour at length will crown his wishes? 
This also? 

PRINCESS. 

I shall shortly be unwell ; 
From the Queen's person I shall be remov'd — 
That is the custom of our Court, you know. 
Then I remain in my own apartment. 

DOMINGO. 

Most fortunate ! Now the great game is won, 
And we may bid defiance to all Queens — 

PRINCESS. 

Hark ! They are calling me — It is the Queen. 
To our next meeting. 

(she hurries off) 



scene xiir. A DRAMATIC POEM, 



105 



SCENE XIII. 
Alba. Domingo. 

DOMINGO. 

(after a pause, during which he has been watching 
the Princess) 
These roses, Duke, and your 

Engagements — 

ALBA. 

And thy God — So will I wait 
The lightning", which must scath us ! 

(exeunt) 



SCENE XIV. 
In a Carthusian Convent. 
Don Carlos. The Prior. 

CARLOS. 

(to the Prior as he comes in) 
And he has 
Been here already too ? I'm sorry for it. 

PRIOR. 

For the third time this morning. 'Twas about 
An hour ago he went away — 

CARLOS. 

He will 

Come back again? Did he not leave word so? 



10(5 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



PRIOR. 

Before mid-day he promis'd. 

CARLOS. 

(at a window looking about him in the vicinity) 
You are plac'd 
Far from the street — One sees in that direction 
The towers of Madrid. — Quite right ; and here runs 
The Mansanares — the position is 
Just as I wish'd it — all is quiet here 
As an Arcanum. 

PRIOR. 

As the entrance to 
The other world. 

CARLOS. 

To your fidelity, 
Most worthy Sir, have I entrusted all 
That's holiest and most precious to me. None 
Must know, nor e'en suspect, whom I have here 
Convers'd with and conceal'd. My reasons are 
Most weighty for disowning before all 
The world, the man whom I am waiting for; 
Therefore I chose this Convent. Are we safe 
From traitors and surprise ? Do you bethink 
You then, of what you promis'd me on oath ? 

PRIOR. 

Rely upon us, gracious Sir. Suspicion 

Of Kings will not pierce thro' the grave. The ear 

Of curiosity lies only at 

The gates of passion, and of happiness. 

The world's no more within these walls. 

CARLOS. 

Think you 

Perhaps beneath this caution, and this fear, 
A guilty conscience seeks to hide itself? 

PRIOR. 

I think of nothing. 



scene xiv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



107 



CARLOS. 

You deceive yourself, 
Truly, good Father, you deceive yourself. 
My secret trembles before man, but not 
Before God. 

PRIOR. 

That does trouble us, my son, 
But very little. This asylum is 
Open to guilt alike, as innocence. 
What you're engag'd in, be it good or bad, 
Virtuous or vicious — you must settle that 
With your own heart. 

carlos. (with warmth) 
What we conceal, cannot 
Do to your God dishonour. 'Tis his own, 
His fairest work. — To you in truth, to you 
Can I reveal it. 

PRIOR. 

To what end? Forego, 
Dear Prince, the explanation. A long time 
The world and its employments have been seal'd 
Up here, in preparation for our one 
Great journey. Wherefore break it open then 
For the short term ere my departure comes? 
'Tis little for salvation that we need; — 
The bell is ringing, I must go to prayer. 

(Exit Prior) 



SCENE XV. 
Don Carlos. Marquis Posa. 

CARLOS. 

Ah ! once at last, at last— 

o 2 



108 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT 



MARQUIS. 

O ! what a trial 
For the impatience of a friend ! Twice has 
The sun arisen, twice has set, since Carlos' 
Fate was decided; and I only now 
Shall hear it. — Speak. You're reconcil'd? 

CARLOS. 

Who? Who? 

MARQUIS. 

Thou and King* Philip : and it is decided 
About the Netherlands? 

CARLOS. 

That the Duke is 
To start to-morrow? That's decided, yes. 

MARQUIS. 

That cannot be. It is not so. Shall all 
Madrid be dup'd? They say that thou hast had 
A private audience. The King — 

CARLOS. 

Remain'd 

Inflexible. We are eternally 
Divided, more so than we were before. 

MARQUIS. 

Thou dost not go to Flanders? 

CARLOS. 

No! No! No! 

MARQUIS. 

Oh ! all my hopes! 

CARLOS. 

That by and by. O ! Roderick, 
Since we last parted, what have I gone thro'! 
But now 'fore all thy counsel ! I must speak 
To her — 

MARQUIS. 

Thy mother ?— No ! For what ? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



109 



CARLOS. 

I hope — 

Pal'st thou? Be calm. I shall and will be happy. — 
Of that another time. Counsel me now, 
How I can speak to her — 

MARQUIS. 

What does that mean? 
What are the grounds for this new fever dream ? 

CARLOS. 

It is no dream ! By the great God of wonders ! 
'Tis truth— reality ! 

(taking out the King's letter to Princess Eboli) 
Contain'd in this 
Important document ! The Queen is free : 
Free in the eyes of men and Heaven too. 
Read there, and cease from thy astonishment. 

marquis, (opening the letter) 
What? What is this I see ? Th' hand-writing of 
The Monarch? 

(when he has read it) 
And to whom is this address'd? 

CARLOS. 

To Princess Eboli — I yesterday 
Receiv'd a letter in an unknown hand — 
With it a key, — by one of the Queen's Pages. 
Within the left wing of the Palace, which 
The Queen inhabits, they point out to me 
A Cabinet, wherein a lady whom 
I have been long in love with, waits for me. 
I took the hint immediately — 

MARQUIS. 

Madman ! 

Thoufollow'd'st? 

CARLOS. 

I was unacquainted with 
Th' hand-writing — I know but of one such lady. 



110 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT 



Who else but she presumes to think herself 
Ador'd by Carlos? Giddy with delight, 
I fly towards the place; a heav'nly voice 
Singing inside th' apartment serves me for 
A guide — I start into the Cabinet, 
Whom do 1 see? — picture my sensations! 

marquis. 

O ! I guess all. 

CARLOS. 

0! Roderick, I was lost 
Beyond salvation, if I had not falPn 
Into an angel's hands. Unfortunate! 
Charm'd by the thoughtless language of my looks, 
She laid the flatt'ring unction on her soul, 
She was herself the idol of my thoughts. 
Excited by the calmness of my passion, 
Tender and nobly inconsiderate, 
She ventures now to make return of love. 
Respect enjoin'd me silence, as I thought ; 
She had the hardihood to break it — her 
Fair soul lay bare before me — 

MARQUIS . 

And dost thou 
Tell it so calmly? Princess Eboli 
Has read thy inmost thoughts. There is no doubt 
She fathom'd out the secret of thy love. 
Thou hast mortally offended her. She rules 
The King. 

carlos. (with confidence) 
She's virtuous. 

MARQUIS. 

She may be so 
From love's self-interest — I fear this virtue 
Excessively ; I know it — know how little 
It rises up to that ideal beauty, 
Which in proud, lovely grace conceiv'd from out 



scene xv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



Ill 



The soul's maternal soil, spontaneously 

Puts forth its natural sprouts, producing flow'rs 

Most lavishly without a gardener's aid ! 

'Tis an exotic forc'd in a cold climate 

To imitate the South ; or principle, 

Or education, call it what thou wilt, 

Acquir'd innocence, wrung from heated blood 

By art and severe conflicts, anxiously 

And conscientiously devoted to 

Heav'n, which requires and compensates it. Weigh 

The case thyself! Can she e'er possibly 

Forgive the Queen, that a man passes by 

Her virtue, so severely struggled for, 

To waste himself away in hopeless love 

For Philip's wife? 

CARLOS. 

Dost thou know the Princess 

So intimately ? 

MARQUIS. 

No, assuredly. 
I've hardly seen her twice. But let me say 
Only one word. It has occurr'd to me, 
That she avoided dexterously guilt's 
Open exposure, that she's confident 
In her own virtue. Then, I mark the Queen — 
O ! Carl, how diff 'rent all I observe here ! 
In her innate calm dignity, unknown 
With careless levity, and with a cold 
Scholastic calculation of deportment, 
As far remov'd from boldness as from fear, 
With firm heroic steps she walks along 
Decorum's narrow middle path. Unconscious 
That she has forc'd out admiration, where 
She did not dream of her own approbation. 
Does my Carl in this mirror recognise 
His Eboli again here? — The Princess 



112 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. II. 



Was firm, because she lov'd ; literally 
Love was included in her virtue. Thou 
Hast not rewarded it — it perishes. 

carlos. (with some vehemence) 

No! No! 

(after pacing backwards and forwards hastily) 
I tell thee, no ! — Did Roderick know 
How aptly it becomes him, to deprive 
His Carl of the most heav'nly of all bliss, 
His confidence in human excellence! 

MARQUIS. 

Do I deserve this? — No, friend of my soul, 
That would I not by God in Heaven, not ! — 
This Eboli — she were an Angel, and 
Before her glory I would bow me down 
As full of reverence as thou thyself, 
Had she — not learn'd thy secret. 

CARLOS. 

Only see 

How groundless is thy fear ! Has she forsooth 
Got other proofs, than those which shame herself? 
Or will she purchase with her own dishonour 
The melancholy pleasure of revenge? 

MARQUIS. 

Many in truth have sacrifiVd themselves 
To infamy, to spare themselves a blush. 

carlos. (rising with vehemence) 
No, that's too harsh, too cruel. She is proud, 
And noble, I know her and fear nothing. 
In vain thou triest to fright my hopes away. 
I will speak to my mother. 

marquis. 

Now? For what? 

CARLOS. 

I have now nothing more to care for, and 
Must know my fate. Think only, how I can 



scene xv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 113 
Find opportunity to speak to her. 

MARQUIS. 

And wilt thou shew her then this letter too? 
Wilt thou indeed do that? 

CARLOS. 

Question me not 
Thereon. Think only of the means, the means 
Of speaking to her ! 

marquis, (significantly) 
Did'st thou not tell me 
Thou lov'st thy mother? — Art thou willing" to 
Shew her this letter ? 

(Carlos looks on the ground, and is silent) 
I read something, Carl, 
In thy looks — altogether new to me — 
Quite strange until this instant. — Dost thou turn 
Thine eyes away from me ? Is it then true ? 
And have I read aright ? Let us see then — 

(Carlos gives him the letter, the Marquis tears 
it in pieces) 

CARLOS. 

What, art thou mad? 

(with more moderate susceptibility) 
Truly — I avow it — 
This letter was of greatest import to me. 

MARQUIS. 

So it appear'd. Therefore I tore it up. 

(The Marquis casts a piercing look at the Prince, 

who regards him doubtingly. A long pause.) 
Speak then — What has the Royal bed profan'd 
To do with thy — thy love? Was Philip then 
Dangerous to thee? What connection can 
The husband's duties violated have 
With thy more daring hopes? Has he sinn'd, where 
Thou lov'st? Now truly I begin at length 
To comprehend thee. O ! how ill have I 



114 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



Hitherto been acquainted with thy love! 

CARLOS. 

How, Roderick, what believ'st thou? 

MARQUIS. 

O! I feel 

Of what 1 have to wean mvself. Yes, once, 
Once it was altogether dilferent. 
Thou wert so rich, so warm, so rich ! The whole 
"World's circle in thy breast found ample space. 
All that is now gone by, is swallow'd up 
In this one passion, paltry selfishness. 
Thy heart is dead. No tears, not one tear more 
For Flanders, and her monstrous destinv. 
O! Carl, how poor, how beggarlv art thou 
Become, when thou think'st only of thyself. 
{Carlos throws himself into a chair, After a pause, 
with tears barely suppressed) 

CARLOS. 

I know that thou carest no more for me. 

MARQUIS. 

'Tis not so, Carl ! I know this agitation. 
Praiseworthy feelings gone astray have caus'd it. 
The Queen was thine, was stolen from thee by 
The Monarch — But till now thou modestly 
Distrusted'st thine own rights. Philip perhaps 
Was worthy of her. Thou did'st venture then, 
But in a whisper only, to give judgment. 
That letter was decisive of the question. 
Thou wert the worthier. With haughty joy 
Thou saw'st the tvrant now of theft convicted, 
Exulted'st in being thyself th' aggriev'd one. 
To suffer wrong then flatters noble souls. 
Here thy imagination went astray, 
Thy pride felt satisfaction — and thine heart 
Promis'd itself hope. See, I know it well, 
This time thou hast misunderstood thyself. 



scene xv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



115 



carlos. (excited) 
No, Roderick, thou art very wrong. I did 
Not think so nobly, not by far, as thou 
Would'st willingly induce me to believe. 

MARQUIS. 

Am I so little known then here? See, Carl, 
If thou'rt in error, still I always seek 
Among" a hundred to find out some virtue, 
With which to tax thy error. Now we are 
Better agreed then ; be it so ! Thou shalt 
Speak to the Queen now, thou must speak to her. 

carlos. (Jailing on his neck) 
O! how I blush by thee ! 

MARQUIS. 

Thou hast my word. 
Entrust now all the rest to me. A wild, 
A bold, a lucky thought springs up in my 
Imagination. — Thou must hear it, Carl, 
From out a fairer mouth. I hasten to 
The Queen. Perhaps to-morrow the result 
May show itself. Till then forget not, Carl, 
That "A design, conceiv'd of lofty reason, 
"Which the distress of human nature urges, 
"Tho' it be frustrated ten thousand times, 
" Must never be relinquish'd." Hearest thou ? 
Bethink thee of the Netherlands. 

CARLOS. 

All, all, 

Whatever thou and lofty virtue bid me. 

marquis, (goes to a window) 
The time is up. I hear thy suite approaching. 

(they embrace) 

Now again Crown-Prince and Vassal. 

CARLOS. 

Dost thou go 

To Town immediately ? 



11(5 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT II. 



MARQUIS. 

Immediately. 

CARLOS. 

Hold! One word more! How very easy 'tis 
To forget ! News, too, of the last importance. 
" Letters for Brabant the King breaks open," 
Be on thy guard ! The Post Office I know 
Has secret orders — 

MARQUIS. 

How did'st thou know this ? 

CARLOS. 

Don Raymond Taxis is my faithful friend. 

MARQUIS. 

That too ! Then they go round by Germany ! 

(Exeunt by different 



scene r. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



117 



ACT III. 

The King's Bed-Room, 
SCENE I. 

Two candles burning on the night-table. At the 
farther end of the room some Pages on their 
knees asleep. The King half undressed stands 
before the table, resting one arm on the chair, 
in attitude of thoughtfulness. Before him lie a 
Miniature and Papers. 

KING. 

That she was once of warm imagination — 
Who can deny ! 1 could ne'er love her, yet — 
Did she e'er seem to feel the want of love? 
So it is evident, that she is false. 

(here he makes a movement which brings him to 

himself. He looks about wildly) 
Where was I? Is there no one here awake, 
Except the King? What? The candles burnt out, 
And not yet daylight ? I have lost my sleep. 
Take it, kind Nature, for enjoy'd. A King 
Cannot spare time to make up for lost nights; 
I am awake now, and it must be day. 
(He puts out the candles and opens the window- 
curtain. In walking backwards and forwards, he 



118 



DON CARLOS, 



act. nr. 



observes the Pages asleep, and remains a long 
time standing before them in silence; he then 
rings the Bell) 
Are they asleep too in the Anti-room? 



SCENE II. 
The King. Count Lerma. 

LERMA. 

(in alarm when he perceives the King) 
Sire, are you indispos'd? 

KING. 

The left Pavilion 
Of the Palace was on fire. Did you not 
Hear the alarum? 

LERMA. 

No, your Majesty. 

KING. 

No? How? Have I been only dreaming then? 

That cannot happen accidentally. 

Does not the Queen sleep in that quarter ? 

LERMA. 

Yes, 

Your Majesty. 

KING. 

The dream alarms me. For 
The future, let the guard be doubled there, 
Hear you? as soon as it is evening — 
But quite, quite secretly. — I will not have 
That — Do you scan me with your eyes? 

LERMA. 

I see 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



119 



A burning eye, which begs for sleep- May I 
Venture to put your Majesty in mind 
Of a most precious life ; remind you of 
Your people, who in your pale countenance 
Will read the traces of a sleepless night 
With consternation — Only two short hours 
Of morning sleep — 

king, (with disturbed look) 
Sleep, sleep find I in the 
Escurial. — As long as the King sleeps, 
It is over with his Crown ; the husband, 
With his wife's heart — No, no ! 'tis calumny. — 
Was't not a woman, woman whisper'd it? 
Woman, thy name is calumny ! The crime 
Is not establish'd till a man confirms it. 
(to the Pages, who are awakened in the mean time) 
Summon Duke Alba. 

(Exeunt Pages) 
Approach nearer, Count! 

Is it then true ? 

(he remains standing inquisitively before the Count) 

O ! for one pulses beat 
Omniscience! — Swear it to me, is it true? 
Am I deceiv'd ? Oh ! am I ? Is it true ? 

LERMA. 

My great, my best of Kings — 

king, (drawing back) 
King ! Only King, 
And King again! No better answer than 
Mere hollow echo ! I strike on this rock, 
And will find water, water to assuage 
My feverish thirst — he gives me burning gold. 

LERMA. 

What is true, my King? 

KING. 

O! nothing, nothing. 



120 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



Leave me. Be gone. 

(The Count is in the act of withdrawing, he 
calls him hack) 

Are vou married? Are vou 

A father ? Yes? 

LERMA. 

I am, your Majesty. 

KING. 

Married, and dare you for a single night 
Watch beside your master? Your hair is grey 
As silver, and do you not blush to place 
Confidence in the virtue of your wife ? 
Go home with you. You'll find her certainly 
In your own son's incestuous embrace. 
Believe your King, go — Are you terrified? 
Do you significantly look on me, 
Because I, I myself have some grey hairs? 
Unfortunate, bethink yourself. Queens do 
Not stain their virtue. You die — if you doubt. 

lerma. (with warmth) 
Who can do that ? In all my King's domains 
Who has audacity enough to breathe 
The poison of suspicion upon pure, 
Angelic virtue? The best Queen so low — 

KING. 

The best? And your best also? She has got 
Very warm friends about me here I find. 
That must have cost her dear — more than I knew 
She has to give. You are dismiss'd. Send in 
The Duke. 

LERMA. 

I hear him in the Ante-room — 

(in the act of going) 
king, (in a milder tone) 
Count ! What you first observ'd was very true. 
My head is heated by a sleepless night. — 



scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 121 



Forget, what I have spoken in a dream 
Awake. Forget it. Do you hear? Iam 
Your gracious Sovereign. 

(He holds out his hand to him to kiss. Lerma goes 
and opens the door to Duke Alba.) 



SCENE III. 
The King. Duke Alba, 
alba. 

(approaching the King with a look of uncertainty) 

A summons for me 
So unexpected, at so strange an hour? 

(he starts when he looks closer at the King) 
And this demeanour — 

KING. 

(has sat down and snatched the Miniature off the 
table. He looks at the Duke a long time in silence) 
Is it really true? 

Have I no faithful servant? 

ALBA. 

(stands still in embarrassment) 
How? 

KING. 

My honour 
Is wounded mortally — they know it, yet 
None warn'd me ! 

ALBA. 

(with a look of astonishment) 
Is my Sovereign's honour wounded, 
And it escap'd my notice ? 

Q 



122 



DON CARLOS, act hi. 



king, (shoivs him the letter) 
Do you know 

This hand? 

ALBA. 

It is Don Carlos' hand. — 

KING. 

(a pause, during which he icatches the Duke closely) 

And do you 

Still suspect nothing? You gave me a caution 
'Gainst his ambition. Was it merely his 
Ambition ; merely this, of which 1 had 
To be afraid? 

ALBA. 

Ambition is a great, 
A comprehensive word, in which may be 
Much — infinitely much compris'd. 

KING. 

And have you 
Nothing particular t' inform me of? 

ALBA. 

(after a pause, with looks of reserve) 
Your Majesty confided to my trust 
The Kingdom. To the Kingdom do I owe 
All my most secret information and 
Private intelligence. What more I suspect, 
Or think or know, belongs to me alone. 
There are inviolable secrets which 
One may become possess' d of, or be it 
The purchas'd slave, or vassal of the throne, 
Which they are privileg'd to reserve from 
The Sovereigns of the earth — Not all, of which 
I have a clear conviction, is mature 
Enough for my king's ear. If he will be 
Satisfied, I must pray him, not as King 
To question me. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



123 



king, (gives him the letter) 

Read. 

ALBA. 

(reads and turns shocked towards the King) 
Who was the madman 
To put this fatal letter in the hand 
Of my King? 

KING. 

What? You know whom the contents 
Allude to ? — The name is, as I know well, 
Omitted in the letter. 

ALBA. 

(drawing back embarrassed) 
I have been 

Too hasty. 

KING. 

Do you know? 

alba, (after consideration) 
It is discover'd. 
My King 1 commands — I dare withhold no more. 
I disavow it not — I know the person. 

KING. 

(rising in fearful excitement) 
O! awful God of vengeance, aid me in 
Contriving a new death ! — So clear, so plain, 
And so notorious the intercourse, 
That without trouble of examining, 
They guess it at first sight — That is too bad ! 
That knew I not ! Not that ! And I'm the last 
To find it out ! The last in all my realm — 

ALBA. 

(throws himself at the King's feet) 
Yes, I confess, most gracious Monarch, that 
I am to blame. 1 am asham'd of my 
Cautious reserve, which prompted me to be 
Silent there, where the honour of my King, 



1'24 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



Justice and truth call'd loud enough on me 

To speak — While still all's silent — while the charm 

Of beauty ties the tongues of all mankind, 

I venture it, I speak: albeit I know 

The moving protestations of a son, 

A wife's seductive charms, her tears — 

king, (hastily and violently) 
Get up. 

You have my Royal word. Get up. Speak out 
Fearlessly. 

alba, (getting up) 
Still perhaps your Majesty 
May recollect a circumstance, which happen'd 
In Aranjuez garden. You found the Queen 
Deserted by her ladies — with a look 
Disturb'd — alone in a retir'd bower. 

KING. 

Ha! 

What shall I hear ? Proceed. 

ALBA. 

The Marchioness 
Mondekar was banish'd from the Kingdom, 
Because she had the magnanimity 
Instantly for the Queen to sacrifice 
Herself — We're now inform'd — she did no more 
Than she was order'd. The Prince had been there. 

king, [(in a dreadful passion) 
Been there ? Well then— 

ALBA. 

The footstep of a man 
Track'd in the sand, and lost again towards 
A grotto on the left side of the bower, 
Where too there lay a pocket-handkerchief, 
Which the Prince dropp'd, excited straight suspicion. 
A gardener met the Prince there, and that was 
Almost to the minute calculated, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



125 



The very time, in which your Majesty 
Show'd yourself in the bower. 

KING. 

(coming to himself from a gloomy reverie) 
And she wept 
Because I look'd astonish'd ! Before all 
My Court she made me blush ! Blush 'fore myself— 
By God! I stood before her virtue like 
A criminal — 

(a long and deep pause: he sits down and hides 
his face) 
Duke Alba — you are right- 
That may lead me to something terrible — 
Leave me alone a moment. 

ALBA. 

My Sovereign, 
Even that decides not all — 

king, (seizing the letters) 
Not that too? 
And that? And that again? And this clear chain 
Of damning evidence? O! yes it is 
Clearer than light — What I have known before 
Already a long time — Th' unlawful crime 
Began directly after I receiv'd 
Her from your hands first in Madrid — I see 
Her still, with look of horror, ghastly pale, 
Draw back at sight of my grey hairs. There she 
Began to play me false ! 

ALBA. 

The Prince in his 
Young mother lost a bride. Already had 
They fondly nurs'd their mutual passion, and 
Exchang'd the ardent sentiments, which were 
Forbidden by the change of their position. 
Timidity already was o'ercome ; 
Timidity, which ordinarily 



126 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT III. 



Accompanies the first avowal, and 

Seduction spoke more boldly in the form 

Of confidence created by the past 

Permitted recollections. Wedded by 

The harmony of sentiments and years, 

Irritated by similar restraint, 

They gave way with so much more boldness to 

The violence of passion. Politics 

Interfer'd with their attachment. My Sovereign, 

Is it to be believ'd she delegated 

To the State-Council this authority? 

That she suppress' d her fondly cherish' d passion 

T' examine more attentively what choice 

The Cabinet would make? She was prepar'd 

For Love, and she obtain'd — a Diadem — 

KING. 

{offended and with bitterness) 
You make a very — wise distinction, Duke — 
I do admire your eloquence. I thank you. 

{getting up, coldly and proudly) 
You're right. The Queen err'd much in hiding from me 
Letters on such a subject — in concealing 
The culpable appearance of the Infante 
In the garden at Aranjuez. She 
Has err'd much from false magnanimity. 
I shall know how to punish her. 

(rings a bell) 
Who else 

Is in the Ante-room? Of you, Duke Alba, 
I have no further need. Withdraw. 

ALBA. 

Have I 

Displeas'd your Majesty a second time 
By too much zeal ? 

KING. 

(to a Page who comes in) 



scene iii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



127 



Let Domingo enter. 

(exit Page) 
I pardon you for having made me fear 
The space of two minutes almost a crime, 
Which might have been committed against you. 

(exit Alba) 



SCENE IV. 

The King. Domingo. 

(The King paces several times backwards and for-* 
wards to collect himself) 

DOMINGO. 

(comes in a few minutes after the Duke retired, ap- 
proaches the King, whom he observes a long time 
in formal silence) 

How agreeably surpris'd am I to see 

Your Majesty so calm and so collected! 

KING. 

Are you surpris'd? 

DOMINGO. 

Thanks be to Providence 
My fears were also groundless ! Now may I 
Venture to hope rather. 

KING. 

Your fears? What was 
There then to fear ? 

DOMINGO. 

Your Majesty, I dare 
Not hide from you, that I already am 
Acquainted with a secret — 



128 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



king, (austerely) 

Have I then 
Express' d a wish to share it with you? Who 
Ventures unask'd t' anticipate me thus? 
Right daring-, by mine honour! 

DOMINGO. 

My Sovereign ! 
The place, th' occasion where I found it out, 
The seal beneath which I discover'd it, 
At least declares me guiltless of this charge. 
It was confided to me at confession — 
Confided as a misdeed, which upon 
The sensitive conscience of the revealer 
Lies heavy, and implores the grace of Heav'n. 
Too late repents the Princess of an act 
From which she has strong grounds to apprehend 
Most fearful consequences to her Queen. 

KING. 

Truly? good soul ! — You have conjectur'd right 
The reason of my sending for you. You 
Must extricate me from this labyrinth, 
Which indiscreet zeal has involv'd me in. 
From you 1 expect truth. Speak openly 
To me. What must I believe, what must I 
Resolve? From your office I demand truth. 

DOMINGO. 

Sire, if the charitable character 

Of my profession too demanded not 

The pleasing duty of forbearance from me, 

I should conjure your Majesty however, 

Conjure you for your own reposes sake, 

To desist from this investigation — 

For ever to give up the search into 

A secret which can never be develop'd 

With pleasure to you. What's already known, 

Can be forgotten. One word of the King — 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



129 



The Queen lias never err'd. The Monarch's will 

Virtue as well as happiness confers — 

And the unalter'd calmness of my King" 

Alone is competent to put a stop 

To rumours spread abroad by calumny. 

KING. 

Rumours? Of me, and spread among my people? 

DOMINGO. 

Lies! Damned lies! I swear it. Still there are 
Cases in which, what's generally believ'd, 
Tho' it be ever so disprov'd, is as 
Important as the truth. 

KING. 

By God ! and here 

Exactly were it so — 

DOMINGO. 

Good reputation 
Is the invaluable, the single blessing, 
A Queen must vie for with the burgher's wife — 

KING. 

For that however in this case I hope 
There is no cause to tremble. 

(lie casts a look of uncertainty at Domingo. Jlfter 
a pause) 

Priest, I have 
Still something bad to hear from you. Delay 
It not. I long have read it in your gloomy, 
Ill-boding looks. Speak ! Be it what it may! 
Let me no longer tremble on this rack ! 
What do the people think? 

DOMINGO. 

The people, Sire, 
Are liable to err. And certainly 
They err. What they assert, need not alarm 
The Monarch — only — that they dare so far 
In such assertions — 

R 



130 



DON CARLOS, 



act in. 



KING. 

What? must I entreat 
Of you so long for a drop of poison? 

DOMINGO. 

The people recollect some months ago, 
That time your Royal Majesty lay sick 
Almost to death — thirty weeks afterwards 
They read th' announcement of her Majesty's 
Happy delivery — 

(The King gets up and rings the bell. Duke Alba 
comes in. Domingo embarrassed.) 

I'm astounded, Sire ! 

KING. 

(going towards Duke Alba) 
Toledo ! you're a man. Protect me from 
This Priest ! 

DOMINGO. 

(he and Duke Alba exchange looks of embarrass- 
ment. After a pause) 
Could we have deem'd our information 
Would have produc'd resentment 'gainst the bearer — 

KING. 

What? Bastard, say you? Say you, I was barely 
From death recover'd, when she felt herself 
A mother? — How? That was the very time, 
If I mistake not, when you offer'd up 
Thanks to St. Dominick in all the churches 
For the great miracle which he had work'd 
Upon me? What was then a miracle, 
Is it no more so note ? Either you have 
Told me a falsehood then, or else to-day. 
Which do you wish me to believe? O! I 
See thro' you. Had the plot been then mature, 
Yes, in that case the Saint had lost his credit. 

ALBA. 

Plot! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



131 



KING. 

Could you now so perfectly agree 
In one opinion with a harmony 
So unexampled, and yet not possess 
A mutual understanding? Will you then 
Persuade me this? Me? Should I not have notic'd 
How eagerly, how greedily you rush'd 
Upon your prey? With what voracity 
You glutted on my pain, the ebb and flow 
Of my displeasure ? Should I not remark 
How full of zeal the Duke there burns t' obtain 
The favour which was destin'd for my son? 
How readily the innocent man arm'd 
His petty rancour with the giant strength 
Of my indignation? Imagine you, 
I am the bow, which one may string, just as 
It suits his pleasure? — I too have my will — 
And if I must doubt, it lets me at least 
Begin with doubting you. 

ALBA. 

Our loyalty 
Did not expect this interpretation. 

KING. 

Loyalty ! Warns against impending crimes, 
Revenge dwells only upon those committed. 
Let me hear ? What have I gain'd by your zeal 
To serve me ? — If, what you allege, is true, 
What else remains to me beyond the pang 
Of separation, and the melancholy 
Triumph of vengeance ? — But if not, you only 
Fear; you throw out ambiguous conjectures — 
You leave me standing on the brink of hell, 
And fly away. 

DOMINGO. 

Can there be other proofs, 
Without possessing ocular conviction? 

r 2 



132 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT III. 



KING. 

(after a pause, turning solemnly and seriously 
toicards Domingo) 
I will summon the Grandees of my realm, 
And sit myself in judgment. Stand you forth 
Before them all — you have the courage — and 
Accuse her of adultery ! She — she 
Shall die the death — without a rescue — She 
And the Infante die — but — mark you ! should 
She clear herself — you yourself! Are you willing" 
To honour truth by such a sacrifice? 
Make up your mind. You will not? You are dumb, 
You are not willing? — that's a liar's zeal. 

ALBA. 

(ivho was standing silent in the distance, cool and 
calmly) 

I will so. 

KING. 

(turns round astonished and looks a long time at 
the Duke motionless) 
That is bold ! But I remember 
That you have risk'd your life in sharp engagements 
For matters of far lighter consequence — 
Ventur'd it for the bugbear of renown, 
With a dicer's reckless hardihood — and what 
Is life to you? I risk not Royal blood 
To a fanatic, who has nought to hope 
But to resign a miserable existence 
With notoriety — I accept not 
Your sacrifice — withdraw — Withdraw, and wait 
My farther orders in the Audience room. 

(exemit) 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 133 



SCENE V. 

The King alone. 

Now give to me a man, good Providence — 
Much hast thou given me. Bestow on me 
A man now. Thou — Thou alone art able — 
For thy all-seeing eyes scan things conceal'd. 
I beg of thee a friend, for I am not 
As Thou, Omniscient. The Ministers, 
Whom thou hast chosen for me, what they are 
To me, Thou knowest. As they merit, they 
Are valued by me. Their vices tam'd down, 
Kept under bit and bridle, serve my ends, 
As Thy thunder-storms purify the world. 
I need the truth. To dig its quiet springs 
Out of the dark and refuse mass of error, 
Is not the lot of Kings. Give me the man, 
So rarely found, with pure, ingenuous heart, 
Superior talent, and unprejudic'd 
Judgment, who may help me to find them out. 
I mix the tickets up together — let 
Me draw the only man among the thousands 
Who flit about the disk of Majesty. 
(he opens a writing desk and takes out a pocket- 
book. After he has turned over the pages a long time) 
Mere names — names only are imprinted here, 
And not a single mention of desert, 
To which they owe their places on this scroll — 
And what forgets so soon as gratitude? 
And here upon this other page I find 
Each fault specifically register'd. 
How? That is not right! Does the memory 
Of vengeance stand in need of such assistance? 

(reads on) 



134 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



Count Egmont? What does he here? Long ago 
The vict'ry at St. Quentin has been canceled. 
I count him 'mong the dead. 

(he scratches this name cut and writes it on the other 
page. After reading farther) 

The Marquis Posa? 
Posa? — Posa? — Posa? — I can scarcely 
Recal this person to my recollection ! 
And two strokes put against him — a proof that 
I destin'd him for some important ends ! 
And is it possible? This man till now 
Has kept himself aloof from observation ! 
Has shunn'd his Royal debtor's presence ! Yes — 
By God! In all the circle of my realm 
The only man who has no need of me ! 
Were he possess' d of avarice, or were he 
Ambitious, he would surely long ago 
Have stood before my throne. May I attain 
My aim thro' this extraordinary person? 
He who can do without me, will speak truth to me. 

(exit) 



SCENE VI. 

The Audience Room. 

Don Carlos in conversation with the Prince op 
Parma, Dukes Alba, Feria, Medina Sidonia. 
Count Lerma and other Grandees with papers in 
their hands. All waiting for the King. 

MEDINA SIDONTA. 

(evidently avoided by all about him, turns towards 



SCENE VT, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



135 



Duke Alba, who alone and absorbed in himself 

walks backwards and forwards) 
You have had audience of the King*, Duke. — In 
What humour did you find him? 

ALBA. 

Very bad 

For you and your intelligence. 

MEDINA SIDONIA. 

I was 

More easy in the English cannons' fire, 
Than on this pavement here. 

C Carlos, who had been watching him with quiet 
interest, now approaches, and shakes hands with 
him ) 

Warm thanks, my Prince, 
For these tears of sympathy. You observe, 
How all avoid me. Now my fall is certain. 

CARLOS. 

Hope for the best, friend, from my father's grace, 
And your own innocence. 

MEDINA SIDONIA. 

I have lost him 
A fleet like which none ever went to sea — 
What is a head like mine to set against 
Seventy such Galleons? But, Prince, — five sons 
As full of hope as you — that breaks my heart. 



SCENE VIL 

The King comes in dressed. The same. All take 
off their hats, and make way on both sides, form- 
ing a semi-circle about him. Pause. 



13(> 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



KING. 

{looking hastily through the whole circle) 
Be cover' d ! 

(Don Carlos and the Prince of Parma approach 
him first, and kiss the King's hand. He turns 
towards the latter in a friendly manner, without 
deigning to notice his son) 

Your mother, Nephew, desires 

To know, how you are lik'd here in Madrid. 

PARMA. 

She should not ask that till after the end 
Of my first campaign. 

KING. 

Be quite at your ease. 
And one day too your turn will also come, 
Should these props fail. 

(to Duke Feria) 
What do you bring to me ? 

FERIA. 

(bending the knee before the King) 
The Grand Commander of the order, Sire, 
Of Calatrava died this morning. Here 
His Cross of Knighthood is returned to you. 

KING. 

(takes the order and looks round the whole circle) 
Who has the strongest claims to wearing it 
After him? 

(he beckons Alba to him, icho kneels on one knee be- 
fore him, and he hangs the order on him) 

You are my first Marshal, Duke — 
Be never more, so will my favour never 
Be wanting tow'rds you. 

(perceiving the Duke Medina Sidonia) 
Lo ! My Admiral ! 

MEDINA SIDONIA. 

(approaches trembling and kneels before the King 
with his head down) 



SCENE VII. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



137 



That, mighty King, is all that I bring back 
Of the youth of Spain, and the Armada. 

king, (after a long pause) 
God is above me — I sent you against men, 
Not rocks and tempests — welcome to Madrid. 

(lie holds out his hand to him to kiss) 
And thanks for that you have preserv'd to us 
A worthy servant in yourself! — as such 
I recognise him, Grandees, and will know 
He is consider'd so. 

(he makes a sign to him to get up and put his hat 
on, then turns towards the others) 
What is there else ? 
(to Don Carlos and the Prince of Parma) 
Princes, I thank you. 

(exeunt) 

(the still remaining Grandees approach and present 
their papers kneeling to the King — he looks has- 
tily through them and gives them to Duke Alba) 
In the Cabinet 

Lay that before me — am I at the end? 

(no one answers) 

How does it happen that among my Grandees 

A Marquis Posa never shews himself? 

I know full well this Marquis Posa serv'd me 

With great distinction. Lives he not perhaps? 

Why does he not appear? 

LERMA. 

The Cavalier 
Is from his travels only just return'd, 
Which he set out upon throughout all Europe. 
He's just now in Madrid, and only waits 
The public day to throw himself before 
His Sovereign's feet. 



138 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. 



ALBA. 

The Marquis Posa?— Right ! 
That is the same courageous Knight of Malta, 
Your Majesty, of whom report has spread 
Th' enthusiastic exploit. At the summons 
Of the Grand Master of their order, when 
The Knights assum'd a posture of defence 
Around their Isle which Soliman besieg'd, 
From th' University of Alcala 
The youth then only eighteen years of age 
Suddenly disappear'd. A volunteer 
He stood before Valette. " They bought for me 
" This Cross," he said, " and I will now deserve it. 
One of those forty Knights was he, who held 
The Castle of St. Elmo at mid-day, 
Against the Piali, Ulucciali, 
And Mustapha, and Hassan ; the assault 
Being thrice repeated. And when finally 
All fell around him, threw himself into 
The sea, and reach'd Valette, the only one 
Who had escap'd. Two months after the foe 
Quitted the Island, and the Knight came back, 
To complete his course of studies. 

FERIA. 

And this 

Same Marquis Posa 'twas, who afterwards 

Found out the dangerous conspiracy 

In Catalonia, and only by 

His singular activity preserv'd 

That most important Province to the Crown. 

KING. 

I am amaz'd — What sort of man is this, 

Who has done that, and yet among three persons 

Whom I have ask'd, there's not a single one 

Who's jealous of him ? Certainly he has 

A most extraordinary character, 



scene vii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



139 



Or none at all, and I must speak to him 
For wonder's sake. 

(to Duke Alba) 
When I have heard the mass 
Bring" him to me into the Cabinet. 

(exit the Duke. The King calls Feria) 
Take you my place at the Privy Council. 

(exit) 

FERIA. 

How gracious is his Majesty to-day. 

MEDINA SIDONIA. 

Say, he's a God ! — he has been one to me. 

FERIA. 

How richly do you merit your good fortune. 
I take the warmest interest, Admiral. 

A GRANDEE. 

And I. 

A SECOND. 

And truly I. 

A THIRD. 

My heart has beat, 

So meritorious a General ! 

FIRST GRANDEE. 

His Majesty has not been gracious to you — 
Just only. 

LERMA. 

(at the departure of Medina Sidonia) 
O ! how rich two words have made you. 

(exeunt) 



SCENE VIII. 
The King's Cabinet. 
Marquis Posa. Duke Alba. 

s 2 



140 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT III. 



marquis, (as he is coming in) 
Me will he have? Me? That can never be. 
You certainly mistook the name — And what 
Will he with me ? 

ALBA. 

Make acquaintance with you. 

MARQUIS. 

Merely from curiosity — Oh ! then 
Pity to throw away a moment thus — 
Life vanishes with such rapidity. 

ALBA. 

I do consign you to your lucky star. 
The King is in your hands. Make the best use 
You're able of this moment, to yourself, 
Ascribe it to yourself should it be lost. 

(exit) 



SCENE IX. 

The Marquis alone. 

Well spoken, Duke. One must make the best use 
Of an occasion which occurs but once. 
Truly this courtier gives me a good lesson — 
If not in his sense good, at least in mine. 

(after ivalking backwards and forwards) 
But how came I in here? — Is it then merely 
The whimsical caprice of accident, 
Which shews me here my likeness in this mirror ? 
Out of a million exactly me, 
The most unlikely one did it select, 
And raise me from obscurity into 
The King's remembrance? Merely accident? 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



141 



Yet more perhaps — and what is accident, 
But the rough stone of life modell'd beneath 
The sculptor's hand? — 'Tis Providence who gives 
Accident — man must work it for his ends ! 
What the King too may want with me, the same ! 
I know, what I — I should want with the King — 
And were it but a flitting spark of truth 
With boldness flung into the despot's soul — 
How fruitful in the hand of Providence ! 
So may that which appear'd to me at first 
So whimsical, be most productive of 
Important consequences, most design'd 
To work great ends. To be or not to be — 
'Tis much the same ! I '11 act on this belief. 
(he paces several times through the room, and at last 
remains in calm consideration, standing before a 
picture. The King appears in the adjoining room 
where he gives some orders. He then walks in, 
stands still at the door, and looks a long time at 
the Marquis, unobserved by him) 



SCENE X. 

The King. Marquis Posa. 

(The latter approaches the King as soon as he ob- 
serves him, and kneels on one knee before him, 
gets up and stands before him without any signs 
of embarrassment) 

KING. 

(looks at him with astonishment) 
Have you already spoken to me? 

marquis. 

No. 



142 



DON CARLOS, 



act nr. 



KING. 

You made yourself of service to my Crown, 

Why do you shun my gratitude ? In numbers 

Men push themselves into my recollection. 

One only is Omniscient. 'Twas your duty 

To seek your Sovereign's presence. Why have you 

Not done so? 

MARQUIS. 

I return'd two days ago, 

Sire, to Madrid. 

KING. 

I am not wont to be 
My servants' debtor — ask a favour of me. 

MARQUIS. 

I have th' advantage of the laws. 

KING. 

That right 

The murderer has too. 

marquis. 

The good citizen 
How much more therefore ! — Sire, I am content. 

king, (to himself) 
Great spirit truly, bold self-confidence — 
That was to be expected — I desire 
To find a Spaniard proud. I might endure it 
Willingly, should the cup e'en overflow — 
Marquis, I hear that you have left my service. 

MARQUIS. 

To make way for a better man, I have 
Retir'd. 

KING. 

That gives me pain ; when such rare talents 
Are unemploy'd, how great a loss my State 
Sustains — perhaps you are afraid you will 
Not find a sphere that's worthy of your merits ? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



MARQUIS. 

O! no ! Sure am I that the skilful judge, 
Practis'd in human souls, his proper study, 
At the first glance will have discover' d what 
I shall be useful to him in, what not. 
The favour which your Royal Majesty 
Heaps on me by this flatt'ring compliment, 
With feelings of the humblest gratitude 
Impresses me; but — 

(he stops himself) 

KING. 

You bethink yourself? 

MARQUIS. 

I am — I must avow it, Sire — not quite 
Prepar'd to clothe in language which becomes 
Your subject, thoughts which I have entertain'd 
As citizen of the world. — But then, Sire, 
Believing my connection with the Crown 
For ever broken off, I thought myself 
Reieas'd also from the necessity 
Of stating to your Majesty the grounds 
On which I took this step. 

KING. 

Are they so slight? 
Are you afraid of risking them thereby? 

MARQUIS. 

Should I find time, Sire, to exhaust them all — 
At most my life. But I will state the truth, 
If you refuse this favour. My choice lies 
Between my King's displeasure and contempt — 
Must I determine, so should I prefer 
Rather to be in his sight culpable, 
Than weak. 

KING. 

(with look of expectat 
How?. 



144 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



MARQUIS. 

I cannot consent to be 

A Prince's minion. 

(the King looks at him with astonishment) 
I will not deceive 
The purchaser, Sire. — Should you condescend 
To give me an appointment, you will have 
Only things pre-determin'd. You will have 
Only my arm, my courage in the field, 
Only my head in council. Not my acts, 
The countenance they meet with from the throne 
Should be the object of my acts. For me 
Virtue however has intrinsic value. 
The happiness the King disseminates 
Thro' my instrumentality, myself 
Might I create, and joy were it to me, 
And my own choice, what should be only duty. 
And are these your views? Can you tolerate 
Other creators in your own creation ? 
But shall I then debase myself so low 
To be the chisel, where I might have been 
The sculptor? I respect mankind, and dare 
In Monarchies love no one but myself. 

KING. 

This warmth is praise-worthy. You might effect 

Much good. How you effect it, is the same 

To the philosopher and patriot. 

Select the office in my Kingdom, which 

Will give you scope enough to exercise 

This gen'rous impulse. 

MARQUIS. 

I find none. 

KING. 

None? How? 

MARQUIS. 

What by my hands your Majesty confers — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



145 



Is that the welfare of mankind? — Is it 
That very happiness which my pure love 
Desires ungrudgingly for man? — Before 
This happiness Majesty would tremble — 
No ! A new kind the policy of thrones 
Created — happiness, which she is still 
Rich enough to distribute, a new impulse 
In human hearts, which satisfy themselves 
With this invention. In her mints she coins 
The Truth, the truth which she can tolerate. 
Whatever coins do not resemble this, 
Are thrown away. But what is useful to 
The Crown, is that enough for me too? Dare 
My brotherly affection lend itself 
Unto my brother's prejudice ? Can I 
Esteem him happy ere he dare to think? 
Choose me not, Sire, to be the medium 
Of circulation for the happiness 
Which you have coin'd for us. I must decline 
To circulate these coins. — I cannot be 
A Prince's minion. 

king, (somewhat abruptly) 
You're a Protestant ? 
marquis, (after thinking a little) 
Your creed is also mine, Sire. 

(after a pause) 
I have been 
Mis-understood. 'Twas that I was afraid of. 
You see the veil drawn by my hands away 
Before the mysteries of Majesty. 
Who guarantees you what has ceas'd to awe 
Will still be held by me in reverence? 
I'm dangerous, because I thought above 
Myself— -I am not so, my King. Here end 
My wishes. 

(his hand laid upon his heart) 



146 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT III. 



The absurd and idle spirit 
Of innovation, which only increases 
The burden of the chains it cannot quite 
Sever, will ne'er inflame my blood. This age 
Is not yet ripe to realize my schemes. 
I live a citizen of that which is 
To come. A sketch, can it disturb your peace? 
A breath of yours obliterates it. 

KING. 

Am I 

The first who knows you entertain these views? 

MARQUIS. 

These — yes — 

KING. 

{gets up, walks some steps and stops opposite tlie 
Marquis) 

{Aside) This tone at least is new to me ! 
Flattery is exhausted. Imitation 
Degrades a man of talent — for once then, 
A trial of the contrary. Why not ? 
The unexpected sometimes is successful. — 
If you approve it, good, I will decide 
On some new State-appointment — the high spirit — 

MARQUIS. 

I hear how mean, Sire, — how contemptible 

A sense you form of the high dignity 

Of human nature, that you e'en see in 

The language of an independent man, 

Only a flatt'rer's artifices, and 

I think I know who justify you in it. 

The persons forc'd you to it, who resign 

Spontaneously their own nobility, 

Who of their own free-will degrade themselves 

By this base step. They fly away alarm'd 

At the gaunt spectres of their in-born greatness, 

Meanly content them with their poverty; 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 147 

With dastard cunning they deck out their chains, 
And what they wear becomingly, the world 
Calls virtue. In this guise have you receiv'd it, 
Thus was it left you by your mighty father : 
How could you in this melancholy state 
Of mutilation — feel respect for man ? 

KING. 

I find some truth in these opinions. 

MARQUIS. 

But pity ! when you thus transform'd mankind 
From their Creator's hand into the work 
Of your own fashioning, and gave yourself 
As God to this re-modell'd new creation — 
There you o'erlook'd only one circumstance — 
You still remain'd yourself a man — a man 
From the Creator's hand ; you still remain'd 
As mortal, liable to want — to passions — 
You stand in need of human sympathy — 
And to a God man can but sacrifice — 
Tremble — and pray before him ! O ! the charge 
To be repented of ! O! the perversion 
Of nature most unhallow'd ! Where you thus 
Have lower'd down mankind to your own chord, 
Who is to share the harmony with you ? 

KING. 

(Aside) By Heav'n ! he harrows up my soul ! 

marquis. 

But this 

Sacrifice is of no import to you, 
Because you are alone — an exclusive 
Species of your own — on these terms you are 
A God — and 'twould be terrible indeed, 
If it were not so — if upon these terms, 
The loss of happiness to millions, you 
Gain'd nothing ! If the freedom you destroy'd 
Were the sole object which could bring about 



148 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. HI. 



The fulfilment of your wishes ! 1 pray 
You would at once dismiss me, Sire. My subject 
Carries me far away. My heart o'erflows — 
The charm's too powerful to stand before 
The only one to whom it might be open'd. 
(Count Lerma comes in and speaks a few words to 
the King in a low tone of voice. He makes a 
sign to Mm to withdraw, and remains sitting in 
his former position) 

KING. 

(to the Marquis when Lerma goes out) 

Speak on ! 

marquis, (after a pause) 
I feel, Sire, the full value of — 

KING. 

Conclude ! You had yet more to say to me. 

MARQUIS. 

Sire ! 'Tis but lately that I am return'd 

From Flanders and from Brabant — rich and fair 

Provinces are they all ! A vigorous, 

A noble people, and a good one too. 

And father of this people ! That, thought I, 

That must be Godlike ! — There I trod upon 

Burnt human bones — 

(here he pauses — his eyes rest on the King who en- 
deavours to meet his gaze, hut looks on the ground 
in confusion) 

You're justified. You must. 
That you can do, what you perceive you must, 
Inspir'd me with amazement and alarm. 
O ! pity 'tis that weltering in its blood, 
The sacrifice is little competent 
To sing a song of praise in honour of 
The spirit of the sacrificer ! That 
Men only — and not beings of an order 
More elevated — write the history 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



149 



Of this world! — Milder ages take the place 
Of Philip's times; the heralds of a course 
Of policy more benignant; then will 
The Burgher's happiness go hand in hand, 
Reconcil'd with the grandeur of the Prince, 
The avaricious State enrich itself 
In common with its sons, and despotism 
Find a more merciful necessity. 

KING. 

When think you would these blessed times arrive, 

If I had trembled at the curses of 

The present age? Look round you in my Spain, 

Here flourishes the Burgher's happiness 

In never clouded peace ; and 'tis this quiet 

I anxiously desire the Flemings share. 

marquis, {quickly) 
The quiet of a sepulchre. But hope you 
E'er to complete the work you have begun ? 
Hope you to stop the change in Christendom 
Arriv'd already at maturity ? 
The universal spring which renovates 
The surface of the earth? Will you alone 
Throughout all Europe — throw yourself before 
The wheel of human destiny, which rolls 
Irresistibly thro' its complete course? 
Fall with a human arm upon its spokes? 
You will not ! Lately from your Kingdom fled 
Thousands, tho' poor contented; and the Burgher 
Whom you have lost for his belief, was your 
Most noble. With a mother's open arms 
Elizabeth receiv'd the fugitives, 
And Britain blooms luxuriantly by 
Our country's ingenuity. Depriv'd 
Of the new Christians' industry, lies waste 
Grenada, and exulting Europe sees 
Her foe all red with self-inflicted wounds. 



150 



DON CARLOS, 



act in. 



(the King is moved, the Marquis observes it, and 

advances a step nearer) 
Will you plant for eternity, and sow 
You death? An undertaking thus extorted 
Will not survive its creator's spirit. 
You've rais'd a fabric for ingratitude — 
In vain the hardy struggle carried on 
With nature, and in vain a Royal life 
Sacrific'd to projects of destruction. 
Mankind is more than you consider it. 
The chains of a long slumber it will burst, 
And re-demand its consecrated rights : 
To a Busiris' and a Nero's name 
Will couple yours, and — that distresses me, 
Then they were good. 

KING. 

Who has made vou so sure 

Of this? 

marquis, (with fire) 
Yes, by the Omnipotent! Yes — Yes — 
I will repeat it. Give us back again 
What you took from us — generous as He, 
Let human happiness from your full horn 
Flow copiously — cultivate talent 
In your dominions. Give us back again 
What you took from us. You will be a King 
Of million Kings. 

(he approaches him boldly, and at the same time 
casts a solemn piercing look at him) 
01 would the eloquence 
Of all the thousands who participate 
This glorious hour, could float upon my lips, 
To light into a flame the beam I see 
Play on those eyes ! — Give up the unnatural 
Idolatry which annihilates us. 
You '11 be to us the type, the model of 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



151 



Th' Eternal and the True ! Never— never 
Mortal possess'd so much, means so divine 
To take advantage of. Throughout Europe 
All Kings pay homage to the name of Spain. 
Take you the lead before all Europe's Kings. 
One single stroke of your all-pow'rful pen, 
And the earth is re-created. Give us 
The liberty of thought. 

(he throws himself at his feet) 

KING. 

(surprised, turning away his eyes, and then again 
fixing them on the Marquis) 

Strange enthusiast ! 

But — rise — I — 

MARQUIS. 

Look around about you into 
All glorious Nature ! It is founded on 
Liberty — and how rich it is by means 
Of liberty ! The great Creator, He 
Casts the vile worm into a drop of dew, 
And e'en permits free-will t' enjoy itself 
In the dead cavities of foul corruption — 
How poor, how narrow your creation is ! 
The rustling of a leaf affrights the lord 
Of Christendom — each virtue makes you tremble. 
He — rather than disturb the charming form 
Of universal liberty, permits 
The multitude of evils, His aversion, 
To rage in the universe — Him, the Author, 
Man perceives not. Wise He conceals himself 
Beneath eternal laws, which the freethinker 
Sees, but not Him. To what purpose a God? 
Says he, the world's sufficient for itself. 
And the devotion of no Christian has 
Extoll'd him more than this freethinker in 
His blasphemy. 



152 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. III. 



KING. 

And will von undertake 
This lofty standard of mortality 
To raise in my dominions'? 

MARQUIS. 

You can do it, 
Yourself. Who else? Apply the pow'rs you wield 
As Sovereign, to the welfare of your people, 
"Which only — now so long, alas ! so long — 
Have lent out at usurious interest 
The grandeur of the throne — Re-establish 
The lost nobility of human nature. 
Let the good citizen again become 
What he once was, the Crown's solicitude — 
No duty sway it, but its brethrens' rights 
No less inviolable than its own.* 
If now mankind come to itself again, 
Rous'd to a sense of its own dignity, 
If freedom's noble, elevated virtues [dom 
Flourish — then, Sire, when you have made your king- 
The happiest in the world — then it becomes 
Your duty to subdue the universe. 



* The Jirst edition has the following passage: — 

The husbandman repose him from his plough, 

And leave the King, who is no husbandman, 

His Crown un-envied. Let the artisan 

Dream in his work-shop he is modelling 

A fairer world. And further, let no limits 

Restrain the flight of thought, but the condition 

Of finite nature. Let the crown'd stranger 

Never appear within the quiet circle 

Of his paternal labours. Let him never 

Allow himself to tear away the veil 

Ignobly from love's sacred mysteries. 

Let mankind be in doubt, if he exist. 

Rewarded by his own self-approbation, 

The artist modestly conceal himself 

From the machine unconscious of his presence. 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 153 

king, (after a long pause) 
I let you speak on to the very end — 
A different view, I comprehend it well, 
Than men's imaginations generally 
Picture it in, the world presents to yours. 
I also will not subject you to bear 
A foreign scale of measurement. I am 
The first to whom your inmost soul reveals 
Its views, its feelings. I believe it, since 
I know it. For this moderation's sake, 
That you have held conceaPd until this day 
Opinions such as these, embrac'd moreover 
With so much fire — for this discretion's sake 
I will forget, young man, that I have learnt them. 
And how I learnt them. Rise. I will confute 
A young man who unguardedly commits 
Himself, as an old man, not as Monarch. 
I will so, since I will so — poison e'en 
Itself, I find, in natures well dispos'd 
May be converted unto better uses — 
But heed my Inquisition — it would grieve me- 

MARQUIS. 

In truth? Would it do so? 

king, (lost in his gaze) 
01 never! never 
Have I seen such a man. — No ! Marquis ! No ! 
You do me wrong. I will not be a Nero. 
I will not be one — not be one to you. 
I will not wither all the happiness 
That comes within my reach. You, you yourself 
Shall dare continue under my own eyes 
To be a man. 

marquis, (quickly) 
And, Sire, my fellow-Burghers ? — 
! it has never been my plan to act 
For my own good ; has never been my object 

u 



154 



DON CARLOS, 



To reap advantage. And your subjects, Sire ? — 

KING. 

If you can judge so well the estimate 

Posterity will form of me, so too 

Posterity may also learn of you, 

How I have treated man, when I have found one. 

MARQUIS. 

O ! let not the most just of Kings at once 
Be the most unjust — in your Netherlands 
There are a thousand better men than I — 
But you — dare I, great King, express it freely? 
For the first time perhaps see liberty 
Pourtray'd in this benignant colouring. 

king, (with softened serionsyiess) 
Young man, no more in this same train of thought. — 
I know that you would reason otherwise 
Were you acquainted with mankind, as I — 
Yet I should be unwilling to receive you 
Now for the last time. How can I begin 
T' attach you to me % 

marquis. 
Leave me as I am. 
What were I to you, Sire, if you corrupt 
Me too ? 

KING. 

This haughtiness I'll not endure. 
From this day forth you are in my service — 
Make no objection ! I will have it so. 

{after a pause) 
But how ? What wish'd I then ? Was it not Truth 
I was in search of? Here I find still more — 
You've found me, Marquis, on my throne. Not in 
My house too ? 

(as the Marquis seems to bethink himself) 
I quite understand you. Still — 
Were I the most unfortunate of fathers, 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



155 



May I as husband not be fortunate ? 

MARQUIS. 

If a most hopeful son, possession of 
A wife, the most deserving of your love, 
Can give a mortal title to this name, 
You are, Sire, the most fortunate in both. 

king, (with a more serious look) 
No ! I am not so ! And that I am not, 
I never felt more deeply than this moment. 
(Dwelling on the Marquis with a look of deep me- 
lancholy) 

MARQUIS. 

The Prince thinks well and nobly. Never have 
I found him otherwise. 

KING. 

But I have— What he 
Has taken from me, can no Crown restore — 
So virtuous a Queen ! 

MARQUIS. 

Who ventures, Sire, 

To say so ? 

KING. 

Calumny! the World ! Myself!— 
Here lie the proofs which incontestibly 
Condemn her ; others too exist, which make 
Me dread the fearfullest — But, Marquis — it 
Is difficult, is difficult for me 
To credit it from one alone. Who is it 
Accuses her? — If she — she could have been 
Capable of dishonouring 1 herself 
So deeply. O ! how much more is it then 
Allow'd me to believe, an Eboli 
Calumniates? Hates not the Priest my son, 
And her? And know I not that Alba broods 
Revenge ? My wife is worth more, than they all. 

u 2 



15G 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT III. 



MARQUIS. 

And something lives, Sire, too in woman's soul, 
Rais'd high above all semblance, and above 
All calumny — its name is woman's virtue. 

KING. 

Yes ! so said I. To sink so low, as they 
Have charg'd the Queen with falling, costs too much. 
So easily, as they would fain persuade me, 
The sacred ties of honour are not sunder'd. 
Marquis, you know mankind. One such a man 
Has long been wanting to me, you are good 
And joyous, and acquainted with mankind — 
Therefore I've chosen you — 

Marquis (surprised and alarmed) 
Me, Sire? 

KING. 

You stand 

Before your Sovereign, and have nothing ask'd — 
For yourself nothing. That is new to me — 
You will be upright. Passion will not blind 
Your eye. Be vigilant about my son, 
Explore the Queen's heart narrowly. I will 
Send you full pow'r to speak to her in private. 
And leave me now. 

(he rings a bell) 

MARQUIS. 

If I can do so with 
One hope fulfill'd? — Then is this day indeed 
The fairest of my life. 

KING. 

(holds out his hand to him to kiss) 
And it is not 

In mine a lost one. 

(the Marquis rises and goes away. Count Lerma 
enters) 
For the future, Count, 
Let the Knight be admitted un-announced. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



157 



ACT IV. 

The Queen's Apartment. 
SCENE I. 

The Queen, The Duchess Olivarez, Princess 
Eboli, Countess Fuentes, and other Ladies, 

queen. 

(to the first lady as she rises) 
The key too is not found? — My casket then 
Must be forc'd open, and indeed forthwith — 
(she observes Princess Eboli who approaches and 

kisses her hand) 
Welcome, dear Princess ! I am glad to find 
You reinstated — but still very pale — 

fuentes. (somewhat maliciously) 
The naughty fever's fault, which settles on 
The nerves surprisingly. Is it not, Princess? 
queen. 

Truly, my love, I have been very anxious 
To come and visit you — but I dar'd not. 

OLIVAREZ. 

The Princess Eboli at least has not 
Suffer'd from want of company — 

QUEEN. 

That I 

Can quite believe. What is the matter with you? 



158 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



You tremble. 

EBOLI. 

Nothing — nothing at all, my Queen. 
I beg of you permission to withdraw. 

QUEEN. 

You hide it from us, you are more unwell 
Than you would wish us to suppose? And standing 
Fatigues you. Countess, help her to sit down 
Upon this footstool. 

EBOLI. 

I shall be better 

In the open air. 

(Exit) 

QUEEN. 

Countess, go after her — 
O ! what a paroxysm ! 

(A Page comes in and speaks to the Duchess, who 
then turns to the Queen) 

OLIVAREZ. 

Your Majesty 
The Marquis Posa — from his Majesty 
The King. 

QUEEN. 

Admit him then. 
{Exit Page and opens the door to the Marquis), 



SCENE II. 

Marquis Posa. The same. 

(The Marquis kneels on one knee before the Queen, 
who makes a sign to him to get up) 



scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



1S9 



QUEEN. 

What are my Lord's 
Commands? Dare I them openly — 

MARQUIS. 

I'm charg'd 

To see your Royal Majesty alone. 

(The ladies withdraw at a sign from the Queen). 



SCENE III. 

The Queen. Marquis Posa. 

queen, (full of astonishment) 
How ? Dare I, Marquis, trust to my own eyes ? 
You sent to me commission'd by the King ? 

MARQUIS. 

Does that seem to your Majesty so strange ? 
To me not so at all. 

QUEEN. 

Now is the world 
Swung from its orbit. You and he — I must 
Confess — 

MARQUIS. 

That it sounds strange and ominous? 
That may well be. — The present times indeed 
Are fruitful in still greater prodigies. 

QUEEN. 

In greater they can scarcely be. 

MARQUIS. 

Suppose, 
1 had at last allow'd myself to be 
Converted — I were tir'd at Philip's Court 
Of playing the eccentric ? The eccentric ! 



100 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



What means that too ? He then who is desirous 
Of making himself useful to mankind, 
Must first of all endeavour to be like them. 
Why the Schismatic's ostentatious garb? 
Suppose, and who's so free from vanity, 
As not to strive to gather proselytes 
To his own creed? Suppose 1 had design'd 
That mine should be establish'd on a throne ! 

QUEEN. 

No ! — Marquis, no. Not even once in jest 
Could I impute to you a scheme so wild. 
You are no dreaming visionary who 
Will take a thing in hand which cannot be 
Accomplish'd. 

MARQUIS. 

That is just the question now, 

I think. 

QUEEN. 

What I should charge you with the most, 
What would almost estrange me from you, Marquis, 
Is — is — 

MARQUIS. 

Duplicity. It may be so. 

QUEEN. 

Want of straight-forwardness at least. The King 
Probably would not have announe'd to me 
By you, that which you will inform me of. 

MARQUIS. 

No. 

QUEEN, 

Can good objects justify bad means? 

Forgive my doubt — can your keen sense of honour 

Lend itself to this office ? I can scarce 

Believe it. — 

MARQUIS. 

Neither could I, were it here 



scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



161 



My object only to deceive the King 1 . 
But that is not my purpose. This time I 
Design to serve him with more honesty 
Than he commission'd me. 

QUEEN. 

There then yourself 
I hear, and now enough ! What is his plan ? 

MARQUIS. 

The King's *? As it appears I'm very soon 
Reveng'd on my strict judge. Your Majesty, 
As it strikes me, is very far, far less 
In haste to hear, what I was not in such 
Great haste to mention. — Still it must be heard ! 
The Monarch sends to beg your Majesty 
Will not vouchsafe th' Ambassador of France 
An audience to-day. That was my charge. 
'Tis executed. 

QUEEN. 

And can that be all, 
Marquis, you have to say to me from him? 

MARQUIS. 

All probably that authorises me, 
In being here. 

QUEEN. 

Marquis, I readily 
Make up my mind to rest in ignorance, 
Of what perhaps must be a secret for me — 

MARQUIS. 

My Queen, that must it — truly were you not 
Yourself, I should without delay inform you 
Of certain circumstances, hasten to 
Warn you of certain persons — but that caution 
With you is needless quite — the danger may 
Above, beneath, and all around you stalk, 
You never should observe it. All that is 
Too insignificant indeed to scare 

w 



162 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



The golden slumber of an Angel's brow. 

It was not that which brings me here. Prince Carlos — 

QUEEN. 

How did you leave him? 

MARQUIS. 

Like the only wise 
Man of his age, to whom it is a crime 
To worship truth — and just as daring too 
To perish for his love, as he for his. 
I bring few words — but here, here is himself — 

(he gives the Queen a letter) 

QUEEN. 

(ichen she has read it) 
He says that he must speak to me. 

MARQUIS. 

So say 

/ also. 

QUEEN. 

Will it make him happy then, 
To see with his own eyes that I am not so ? 

MARQUIS. 

No. But it ought to make him more resolv'd, 
More active. 

QUEEN. 

How? 

MARQUIS. 

Duke Alba is appointed 

To Flanders. 

QUEEN. 

Yes — appointed — so I hear. 

MARQUIS. 

The King cannot retract. We know the King. 
And that the Prince dare not remain here now, 
Now positively not — is also true. 
And Flanders too must not be sacrific'd. 

QUEEN. 

Know you how to prevent it? 



scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



MARQUIS. 

Yes — perhaps. 
The remedy is dangerous almost, 
As the disease. 'Tis daring as despair. — 
Still I know of no other. 

QUEEN. 

Name it me. 

MARQUIS. 

To you, my Queen, you only, venture I 
To make it known. Carlos from you alone 
Can hear it, without horror hear it spoken. 
The name in truth by which it will be call'd 
Sounds somewhat harsh — 

QUEEN. 

Rebellion — 

MARQUIS. 

He must 

Disobey the King, and with all secresy 
Betake himself to Brussels, where the Flemings 
Wait him with open arms. The Netherlands 
Rise at his signal to a man. The good cause 
Is strengthen'd by a King's son. Let him make 
The throne of Spain to tremble at his arms. 
And what the father in Madrid refuses, 
He will concede to him in Brussels. 

QUEEN. 

You 

Spoke to the King to-day, and say you this? 

MARQUIS. 

Because I spoke to him to-day. 

queen, (after a pause) 
The project 

Which you propose, alarms — but charms me still 
At the same time ; and I believe, you are 
Not wrong— the notion is so bold, and that 
Is just the reason I imagine why 

w 2 



164 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



It pleases me. I will let it ripen. 
Does the Prince know it? 

MARQUIS. 

My plan was, he should 
Hear of it for the first time from your mouth. 

QUEEN. 

Indisputably! The idea is grand — 
But else the Prince's youth — 

MARQUIS. 

Is not at all 

Disadvantageous. He finds there an Egmont, 
An Orange also, both the Emperor Carl's 
Courageous soldiers; as enlighten'd in 
The Cabinet as valiant in the field. 

queen, (with vivacity) 
No! The idea is grand and beautiful. 
The Prince must act. I feel that very warmly. 
The part we see him play here in Madrid, 
Humbles me to the dust on his account — 
France, Savoy too, I promise him. I am 
Quite of the same opinion, Marquis, he 
Must act. But this bold enterprise needs money. 

marquis. 

That requisite already is provided. 

QUEEN. 

And I can find expedients for that. 

MARQUIS. 

May I then give him hopes of seeing you? 

QUEEN. 

I will consider of it. 

MARQUIS. 

Carlos is 

Most urgent for an answer, and I promis'd 
Not to return to him, your Majesty, 
Without one. 

(offering the writing-table to the Queen) 



scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM. 165 

Two lines now will be enough — 

queen, (after writing) 

Shall I see you again ? 

MARQUIS. 

As often as 

Your Majesty commands. 

QUEEN. 

As often as — 
As often as I command it ? Marquis ! 
How am I to explain this liberty ? 

MARQUIS. 

As innocently, Queen, as possible. 

"We can make use of it, that is enough — 

For my Queen that is enough. 

queen, (abruptly) 

How, Marquis, 
Shall I rejoice should this at last become 
The refuge of the liberties of Europe ! 
Should it be so thro' him ! — Depend upon 
My still co-operation — 

marquis, (with fire) 
O ! I knew 
I must be understood here — 

(the Duchess Olivarez appears at the door) 
queen. 

(to the Marquis distantly) 

What comes from 
My Lord, the King, shall I respect as law. 
Go, Sir, assure him of my full submission ! 

(she looks at him) Exit Marquis. 



1GG 



DON CARLOS, act. iv. 



SCENE IV. 
A Gallery. 
Don Carlos. Count Lerma. 

CARLOS. 

Here are we undisturb'd. What have you to 
Disclose to me ? 

LERMA. 

Your Highness has a friend 

At Court here. 

carlos. (starts) 
Whom I knew not of ! — How? What 
Mean you by this? 

LERMA. 

So must I beg pardon, 
That I have learn' d more than I ought to learn. 
Still, for your Highness' consolation, I 
At least receiv'd it from a faithful hand, 
In short, I have it from myself. 

CARLOS. 

Of whom 

Are you then speaking? 

LERMA. 

Of the Marquis Posa — 

CARLOS. 

Now? 

LERMA. 

If your Highness has entrusted him 
With any secret which should not be known 
To all the world, as I'm almost afraid — 

CARLOS. 

As you're afraid? 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM, 



167 



LERMA. 

— He has been with the King. 

CARLOS. 

Indeed? 

LERMA. 

Two hours — and in most private converse. 

CARLOS. 

Really? 

LERMA. 

The subject was no trifling matter. 

CARLOS. 

I quite believe that. 

LERMA. 

Your name, Prince, 1 heard 
Several times mention'd. 

CARLOS. 

No bad sign I hope. 

LERMA. 

This morning in the bed-room of the King 
They talk'd also in most mysterious terms 
About the Queen. 

carlos. (starts back astonished) 
Count Lerma? 

LERMA. 

When the Marquis 
Retir'd, I had his Majesty's commands 
T' admit him for the future unannounc'd. 

CARLOS. 

That is much truly. 

LERMA. 

Without precedent, 
Prince, I believe, as long as I have been 
In the service of his Majesty. 

CARLOS. 

Much! 

Much truly !— How ? In what way did you say 



168 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



The Queen was mention'd? 

lerma. (steps back) 

No, Prince, no ! That is 

Contrary to my duty. 

CARLOS. 

Very strange ! 
You tell me one thing, and the other you 
Conceal from me. 

LERMA. 

The first I owe to you, 
The second to my Sovereign. 

CARLOS. 

— You are right. 

LERMA. 

The Marquis truly I have always known 
A man of honour. 

CARLOS. 

You have judg'd him well. 

LERMA. 

Virtue of ev'ry kind is stainless till 

The moment when you put it to the test. 

CARLOS. 

Here also certainly, and there besides. 

LERMA. 

And a great Monarch's favour seems to me 
Worth seeking for. Upon this golden hook 
Full many a rigid virtue bled to death. 

CARLOS. 

O! yes. 

LERMA. 

'Tis also often prudent to 
Discover, what cannot remain conceaPd. 

CARLOS. 

Yes! Prudent! Still, as you admit, you've known 
The Marquis only as a man of honour. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



169 



LERMA. 

Be he so still, my doubt makes him no worse, 
And you, my Prince, gain doubly. 

{going) 

CARLOS. 

(Jblloics him affected and presses Ms hand) 
Yes, I do 

Gain trebly, noble, worthy man — I see 

That I am richer by a friend, and it 

Costs me not him, whom I possess'd before. 

(Exit Lerma). 



SCENE V. 

Marquis Posa comes through the Gallery. Carlos, 
marquis. 

Carl! Carl! 

CARLOS. 

Who calls f 'Tis thou ! Ah ! Very right. 
I hasten to the Convent. Follow quick. 

MARQUIS. 

Only two minutes — stop. 

CARLOS. 

If they surprise us — 

MARQUIS. 

That will they not. 'Tis over in an instant. 
The Queen — 

CARLOS. 

Thou hast been with my Father? 

MARQUIS. 

Yes: 

He sent for me. 



170 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



carlos. {full of expectation) 

Now? 

MARQUIS. 

It is all arrang'd. 
Thou art to speak to her. 

CARLOS. 

The King?— What will 

The King then? 

MARQUIS. 

He? Not much — was curious 
To know my hist'ry — zeal of some good friends 
Uncourted by me. Wherefore I know not. 
He wish'd my services. 

CARLOS. 

Which thou declin'dst? 

MARQUIS. 

Of course. 

CARLOS. 

And how ended the interview? 

MARQUIS. 

Passably. 

CARLOS. 

And the conversation was 
It not of me too? 

MARQUIS. 

Of thee ? Yes— indeed— 

In general terms. 

(he takes out a pocket-book and gives it to the Prince) 

As a preliminary, 
Here is a letter from the Queen, to-morrow 
I shall know where and how — 

CARLOS. 

(reads very absently, shuts up the pocket-book and 
is going) 

Thou wilt meet me 

Then at the Prior's? 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



171 



MARQUIS. 

Wait one single instant. 
What dost thou hurry for? No one is coming. 

carlos. (with an affected smile) 
Have we then truly chang'd our parts'? Thou art 
Astonishingly confident to-day. 

MARQUIS. 

To-day ? And why to-day ? 

CARLOS. 

What does the Queen 

Write to me ? 

MARQUIS. 

Hast thou not this moment read it? 

CARLOS. 

I? Yes indeed? 

MARQUIS. 

What's come to thee ? What is it 

Possesses thee ? 

CARLOS. 

(reads the note again. Delighted and with five) 
Angel of Heaven ! Yes ! 
I will be so — I will — be worthy of thee. 
Love makes great souls still greater. Be it, what 
It may. If thou entreat'st me I obey. — 
She writes, that I must hold myself prepar'd 
For an important enterprise. What can 
She mean by that ? Dost thou not know? 

MARQUIS. 

If I 

Did know it, Carl — Art thou too now dispos'd 
To listen to 't? 

CARLOS. 

Have I offended thee ? 
I was distracted, Roderick, forgive me. 

MARQUIS. 

Distracted? And by what? 

x 2 



172 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



CARLOS. 

By — I know not 
Myself. This memorandum-book is mine? 

MARQUIS. 

Not altogether ! I come rather here 
To beg thine own for me. 

CARLOS. 

For mine? And wherefore? 

MARQUIS. 

Whatever trifles else thou hast by thee, 
Which should not fall in a third person's hands, 
Letters for instance, or unfinish'd scraps — 
In short thy pocket-book — 

CARLOS. 

But wherefore ? 

MARQUIS. 

Only 

In case of accidents. * Who is secure 

Against surprise? And no one certainly 

Will look for them in my hands. Give me them. 

carlos. (very uneasy) 
That'sstrange indeed! Whence all at once this caution? 

MARQUIS. 

Be quite at ease. I meant to signify 
Nothing thereby. Nothing in truth. It is 
Precaution against danger. I did not 
Intend, indeed I did not, thou should'st be 
Alarm'd. 

CARLOS. 

(gives him the pocket-book) 
Take good care of it. 

MARQUIS. 

That will I. 

CARLOS. 

(looks at him significantly) 
Roderick ! I have giv'n thee much. 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 173 

MARQUIS. 

But not 

As much as I'm possess' d already of 

Of thine — the rest there, now adieu ! — Adieu ! 

(he is going) 

CARLOS. 

(makes an effort with himself in doubt, then calls 
Mm back) 

Give me the letters back again once more, 

There is one there among" them from her, which 

She wrote to me at Alcala, when I 

Lay dangerously ill. I always have 

Carried it next my heart. 'Tis hard for me 

To separate from that letter. Leave me that — 

That letter, — only that — take all the rest. 

(he takes it out and gives him back the pocket-book) 

MARQUIS. 

I do it, Carl, unwillingly. It was 
This very letter which I had in view. 

CARLOS. 

Adieu ! 

(he goes slowly and quietly away, stops a moment at 
the door, turns back again and brings him the letter) 
Thou hast it. 

(his hand trembles, tears start from his eyes, he 
Jails on the Marquis's neck and presses his face on 
his bosom) 

That my Father cannot ! 
Is it not true, my Roderick? That he cannot? 

(exit hastily). 



174 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



SCENE VI. 

MARQUIS. 

(looks after him in astonishment) 
Is't possible? Is it? And have I then 
Not known him? Not entirely? In his heart 
Had this recess escap'd my observation? 
A want of confidence towards his friend ! 
No ! It is calumny ! What has he done 
To me, that I accuse him of the weakest 
Of weaknesses? What I have charg'd him with, 
I am myself — astound him — that it may, 
I readily believe it. When has he 
Been guilty of this singular reserve 
Towards his friend? And to distress him too ! 
I cannot spare thee, Carl, and thy good soul 
Still longer must I harass. In the vessel, 
To which his holy secret he entrusted, 
The King plac'd confidence, and confidence 
Meriteth gratitude. What were talking, 
If silence do not give thee pain? Perhaps 
'Twere mercy. Wherefore show to one who sleeps 
The rain-charg'd cloud, which threatens o'er his head ? 
Enough that I direct it quietly 
Past thee, and when thou wak'st, the sky's serene. 

(exit). 



SCENE VII. 

The King's Cabinet. 

The King in a chair — by him the Infanta Clara 
Eugenia. 

king, (after a deep pause) 
No ! No ! It is my daughter notwithstanding — 



SCENE VII. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



175 



For how could nature play me false with such 

Likeness to truth? This blue eye is my own ! 

Do I not find myself reflected here 

In ev'ry lineament? Yes, yes thou art 

Child of my love. I press thee to my bosom — 

Thou art my blood ! 

(he starts and holds back) 

My blood ! What's worse to fear ? 

•My lineaments, are they not his as well? 

(he has taken the portrait in his hand and looks al- 
ternately at it, and the glass which is opposite 
him — at last he throws it on the ground, gets up 
hastily, and pushes the Infanta from him) 

Away ! Away ! I sink in this abyss. 



SCENE VIII. 
Count Lerma. The King. 

LERMA. 

Her Majesty the Queen has just appeared 
In the ante-chamber. 

KING. 

Now? 

LERMA. 

And she desires 
The favour of an audience — 

KING. 

Now? Now? 
At this unusual hour ? — No ! I cannot 
Speak to her now — not now — 

LERMA. 

Her Majesty 

Is here herself. 

(exit). 



17G 



DOX CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



SCENE IX. 

The King. The Queen enters. The Infanta. 

(The latter flies towards her and presses close to her. 
The Queen kneels before the King who stands 
mute and distracted) 

QUEEN. 

My husband and my Lord — 
I must — I am constrain'd to seek for justice 
Before your throne. 

KING. 

Justice ? 

QUEEN. 

1 find myself 
Treated with disrespect here at this Court. 
My casket has been broken open. 

KING. 

What? 

QUEEN. 

And things are missing out of it, of great 
Value to me — 

KING. 

Of great value to you? 

QUEEN. 

From the importance which an uninform'd 
Person's ofnciousness might — 

KING. 

What? Importance — 
Ofnciousness — however — rise ! 

QUEEN. 

My husband, 
Not till you pledge yourself to me by promise, 
In virtue of your own authority, 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



Of finding* out the perpetrator for 
My satisfaction ; if not, of removing" 
A suite which hides the thief. — 

KING. 

Rise — in this posti 

Rise — 

queen, (rises) 
I know well, that he must be of rank — 
For in the casket was contain'd far more, 
More than a million in pearls and diamonds, 
And yet the thief was satisfied with letters — 

KING. 

Which I then— 

QUEEN. 

Willingly, my husband — they 
Were letters and a portrait of th' Infante — 

KING. 

Of— 

QUEEN. 

The Infante, your son — 

KING. 

To you? 

QUEEN. 

To me. 

KING. 

Of the Infante ? And do you tell me that ? 

QUEEN. 

Why not to you, my husband? 

KING. 

With this face ? 

QUEEN. 

What strikes you so remarkable? I think 
You recollect the letters which Don Carlos 
Wrote to me at St. Germains by consent 
Of both the Crowns. Whether the portrait too, 
With which they were accompanied, made part 



178 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



Of the conditions of this courtship, or 
Whether his own rash hopes unauthoris'd 
Permitted him to take this daring step — 
That will I not take on me to decide. 
Were it an act of over-forwardness, 
It was most pardonable — there am I 
Responsible for him. It did not then 
Occur to him, that it was for his mother — 

(she observes the agitation of the King) 
What is that? What possesses you ? 

INFANTA. 

(who in the mean time has found the miniature on 
the ground, and has been playing with it, brings 
it to the Queen) 

Ah ! Mother, 

See ! here, the pretty picture — 

QUEEN. 

What then, my — 
(she recognises the miniature, and remains in speech- 
less astonishment. They both look at each other 
with their eyes fixed. After a long pause) 
Most truly, Sire ! This mode of searching into 
Your consort's heart, appears to me right royal, 
And noble — then I may permit myself 
To ask one question. 

KING. 

'Tis for me to ask. 

QUEEN. 

From my suspicion then shall innocence 
Not suffer. — If this theft has taken place 
By your command — 

KING. 

Yes. 

QUEEN. 

Then have 1 no one 
T' accuse, and no one further to regret — 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



i79 



No one but you, who never was possess'd of 
A wife, whose conduct justified such measures. 

KING. 

I understand this language, Madam, — but 
A second time I will not be deceiv'd, 
As you deceiv'd me in Aranjuez. 
The angel-virtuous Queen who at that time 
Defended herself with such dignity — 
I know her better now. 

QUEEN. 

What does that mean ? 

KING. 

Briefly then, Madam, and without reserve ! — 

Is it true, true then that you did not speak 

With some one there ? With some one % Is that true ? 

QUEEN. 

I spoke to the Infante. Yes. 

KING. 

Yes Now 

It is as clear as day. It is discover'd. 
So impudent! So little feeling for 
My honour ! 

QUEEN. 

Honour, Sire ! If honour were 
At stake, I am afraid, more would be risk'd, 
Than Castile brought me as a marriage gift. 

KING. 

Why then did you deny it ? 

QUEEN. 

Because I 
Am not accustom' d to allow myself 
In presence of the Courtiers to be 
Examin'd, like a criminal. The truth 
I never disavow, when it is sought 
Respectfully and properly. — Was that 
The tone forsooth your Majesty adopted 



180 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



On that occasion in Aranjuez? 

Have the assembled Grandees ever been 

A judgment-seat, before which Queens are brought 

To answer for their private actions'? I 

Granted the Prince an audience, for which 

He urgently entreated. I did it, 

My husband, since I wish'd it — and because 

I will not make custom the judge in matters 

Which I know harmless — and I kept it hidden 

From you, because I did not choose to have 

A disagreement with your Majesty 

Before my suite about this privilege. 

KING. 

Your language, Madam, is most daring, very — 

QUEEN. 

On that account too, I will add besides, 
Because the Infante in his Father's heart 
Scarcely enjoys that confidence, which he 
Deserves — 

KING. 

Which he deserves? 

QUEEN. 

Why should I, Sire, 
Conceal it? — I do prize and love him much, 
As my most dear and nearest kinsman, who 
Was once consider'd worthy to receive 
A name which more concern'd me — I have not 
As yet discover'd, that on that account 
Precisely he should be more strange to me 
Than any other man — because he once 
Had been more dear to me than any. If 
State-policy form bands of union 
To suit her purpose, she must surely find it 
More difficult to loose them. I will not 
Hate whom I should — and since I'm forc'd at last 
To speak out — I will not — no longer will 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



181 



I have my choice confin'd — 

KING. 

Elizabeth ! 

In my weak moments you have seen me, and 
The recollection of this makes you bold; 
You trust to that strong" influence which you 
Too often have successfully exerted 
Against my firmness — fear so much the more. 
What brought me down to weakness, also may 
Drive me to madness. 

QUEEN. 

What have I done then ? 
ktng. {takes hold of her hand) 
If it is — it is — and is it not so now ? 
If the entire accumulated mass 
Of your transgression do but only rise 
By th' estimation of a single breath — 
If I'm deceiv'd — 

{he lets go her hand) 
I can get over this 
Last weakness too. I can and will do so — 
Then woe to me and you, Elizabeth ! 

QUEEN. 

What have I done then ? 

KING. 

Then on my account 

Be blood shed — 

QUEEN. 

God ! and is it come to this ? 

KING. 

I know myself no more — no more regard 
Have I for laws, the voice of nature, and 
National compacts — 

QUEEN. 

How much do I pity 

Your Majesty — 



182 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



king, (furious) 
Pity ! The sympathy 
Of an adultress — 

INFANTA. 

(clings to her mother, frightened) 
The King is angry, 
And my sweet mother weeps. 

(the King pushes the child roughly from the Queen) 

QUEEN. 

(with softness and dignity, but with trembling voice) 

I must secure 

This infant from the danger of ill-treatment. 
My daughter, come with me ! 

(she takes her in her arms) 
If the King will 
Not recognise thee, I must send for our 
Protectors from beyond the Pyrenees. 

(going) 
king, (embarrassed) 

Queen ! 

QUEEN. 

No ! I can no more — that is too much — 
(she endeavours to reach the door, but falls with 
the child at the threshold) 

KING. 

(hastening towards her full of alarm) 
God! What is that? 

INFANTA. 

(screams, very much frightened) 
My mother bleeds ! 

(she runs out) 

KING. 

(assisting her anxiously) 
O! what 

A fearful accident! She bleeds! Do I 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM, 



183 



Deserve to be thus punish'd? Rise! Recover 
Your senses! Rise! They come! They will surprise us! — 
Rise ! Rise ! Shall all my Court divert themselves 
With such a scene? Must I entreat you rise? 

(she raises herself up, supported by the King). 



SCENE X. 

The same. Alba, Domingo, come in alarmed. 
Ladies follow. 

KING. 

Let them conduct the Queen to her apartment. 
She is unwell. 

(exit Queen accompanied by her Ladies. Alba and 
Domingo come nearer) 

ALBA. 

The Queen in tears, and blood 
Upon her face— 

KING. 

And that astonishes 
The daemons who misled me. 

ALBA. DOMINGO. 

We? We? 

KING. 

Who 

Have said enough to drive me on to madness. 
For my conviction nothing. 

ALBA. 

Sire, we gave 

But what we had— 

KING. 

And hell may thank you for it. 



184 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



T have done that which I repent me of. 

Was that the language of a guilty conscience? 

MARQUIS POSA. (still off the St(lf)C) 

May I speak with the Monarch? 



SCENE XI. 
Marquis Posa. The same. 

KING. 

(at the sound of his voice rising immediately and 
moving some steps towards him) 
Ah! 'Tishe! 
You're welcome to me, Marquis — of you, Duke, 
I have no further need now — leave us! 
(Alba and Domingo look at each other in silent 
amazement and exeunt). 



SCENE XII. 
The King. Marquis Posa. 

MARQUIS. 

Sire! 

'Tis hard upon the old man, who has fae'd 
Death in your cause in twenty battles, thus 
To be dismiss'd. 

KING. 

'Tis right that you should think so, 
/ should behave so. What you are become 



scene xif. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



In the short space of these few hours to me, 

In a whole life-time he has never been. 

I will not make a secret of my favour; 

The signet of my royal confidence 

Shall shed a bright and far extended gleam 

Upon your brow. I will have the person, 

Whom I have chosen for my friend, be envied. 

MARQUIS. 

And if the veil too of obscurity 
Were his sole claim, be deserving of 
That title? 

KING. 

What is it that brings you hither ? 

MARQUIS. 

As I was passing thro' the ante-room, 
A frightful rumour reach' d me, which appears 
To me incredible — a fierce dispute — 
Blood — the Queen — 

KING. 

Do you come from thence? 

MARQUIS. 

It would 

Shock me should not the rumour prove untrue, 
Or should perhaps your Majesty have done 
Some act in the mean time — Discoveries 
Of great importance, which I made to-day 
Entirely change the aspect of affairs. 

KING. 

How? Now? 

MARQUIS. 

I found an opportunity. 
To take away the Prince's pocket-book, 
With certain of his papers, which, I hope, 
Some light — 

(he gives the King Carlos' pocket-book) 



18G 



DON CARLOS, act. iv. 



KING. 

(looks through the papers eagerly) 
A letter from the Emperor 

My father how? Which I don't recollect 

To have heard ever the existence of — 

(he reads it through, lays it on one side, and hurries 

to the other papers) 
The plan of a fortification — scraps 
From Tacitus — and what is here? — the hand 
I certainly should know! 'Tis from a lady — 
(he reads attentively, sometimes aloud, sometimes in 
a whisper) 

"This key the back room in the Queen's pavi- 
lion" 

Ha! What is that? — "here love dare freely — hearing" — 
" The sweet reward — " Satanic treachery ! 
I know it now, 'tis she. It is her hand ! 

MARQUIS. 

Th' hand-writing of the Queen? Impossible — 

KING. 

Of Princess Eboli — 

MARQUIS. 

'Twas true then what 
The Page Henarez has just own'd to me, 
Who brought the key and letter. 

KING. 

(grasping the Marquis's hand in violent excitement) 

Marquis, Marquis, 
I see myself in fearful hands! This woman — 
1 will avow it — 'twas this woman, Marquis, 
Who broke open the casket of the Queen, 
The first hint came from her — who knows, what hand 
The Priest may have in it — I am deceiv'd 
By their atrocious villainy. 

MARQUIS. 

Then were it 

Fortunate truly — 



scene xii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



KING. 

Marquis! Marquis! I 
Begin to fear that I have done too much 
Against my Wife. 

marquis. 
Between the Prince and Queen 
If there have been private communications, 
They certainly were on a diff 'rent subject, 
To that she is accus'd of. I have sure 
And positive authority for knowing 
The Prince's wish to start for Flanders, was 
Suggested by the Queen. 

KING. 

I always thought so. 

MARQUIS. 

The Queen has great ambition — may I venture 
To say yet more ? — She feels with irritation 
The disappointment of her lofty hope, 
And her exclusion from the government. 
The Prince's youthful hardihood presented 
The means of furthering her views — her heart — 
I doubt if she can love. 

KING. 

I tremble not 
At her political designs. 

MARQUIS. 

If she 

Be lov'd? — If nothing worse be to be dreaded 
From the Infante? This appears a question 
Worthy investigation. Here, I think, 
A stricter watch expedient — 

KING. 

You will be 

My surety for him. — 

marquis, (after some consideration) 
If your Majesty 

z 2 



188 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



Should deem me fit to undertake this office, 
I must beg you to place it in my hands 
Exclusively and without limitation. — 

KING. 

It shall be so. 

MARQUIS. 

At least not to disturb me 
With coadjutors, bear what name they may, 
In measures I may chance to find expedient — 

KING. 

With none. I promise. You are my good Angel. 
How much I owe you for this wise suggestion. 

(to Lerma icho enters at the moment) 
How did you leave the Queen? 

LERMA. 

Still very weak 

After her fainting fit. 

(he looks at the Marquis with a doubting glance 
and exit) 

marquis, (to the King after a pause) 
Yet one precaution 
Appears to me desirable. I fear 
The Prince may have some intimation. He 
Has many friends — connection with the rebels 
In Ghent perhaps. Fear may urge him to take 
Desperate measures — therefore I advis'd 
That steps at once be taken to prevent 
By speedy means this possibility. 

KING. 

You are quite right. But how — 

MARQUIS. 

A secret writ 
Of arrest, which your Majesty may place 
In my hands, to avail myself of it 
If danger threaten — and — 

(as the King seems to consider) 



scene xii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



189 



It may remain 
The first state-secret, till — 

KING. 

(going to the writing - table and signing the arrest) 

The realm's at stake — 
Th'impending danger fully justifies 
Extraordinary measures — Marquis, here — 
'Tis needless to enjoin you no forbearance — 

MARQUIS. 

(receives the order of arrest) 
'Tis in the last extremity, my Sovereign. 

KING. 

(puts his hand on his shoulder) 
Go, go, dear Marquis — and restore to me 
Peace to my heart, and slumber to my eyes. 

(exeunt on different sides). 



SCENE XIII. 
A Gallery. 

Carlos enters in the greatest agitation. Count 
Lerma meeting him. 

CARLOS. 

I was just seeking you. 

LERMA. 

I also you. 

CARLOS. 

Is 't true? For God's sake, is it true? 

LERMA. 

What true? 



190 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT 



CARLOS. 

That he has drawn a dagger at her? That 
They bore her bleeding out of his apartment? 
By all the Saints ! O ! answer me ! What must I 
Believe ? What is the truth ? 

LERMA. 

She fell down in 
A fainting fit, and scratch'd herself in falling. 
'Twas nothing, else. 

CARLOS. 

There is no danger then ? 
Verily not? upon your honour, Count? 

LERMA. 

Not for the Queen — so much the more for you. 

CARLOS. 

Not for my mother ! Now then God be prais'd t 
A terrible report has reach'd my ears, 
The King infuriate against child and mother, 
A secret been discover'd — 

LERMA. 

For the latter — 

'T may easily be true. 

CARLOS. 

Be true? And how? 

LERMA. 

This morning, Prince, I gave you a precaution 
Which you despis'd, Make you better use of 
The second. 

CARLOS. 

How? 

LERMA. 

If I do not mistake, 
I saw some days ago a pocket-book 
Of sky-blue, gold-embroider'd velvet, Prince, 
In your hands — 



scene xin. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



191 



carlos. (somewhat staggered) 
Such an one I do possess. 

Yes — now ? 

LERMA. 

Upon the cover, I believe, 
The outline of a figure set in pearls — 

CARLOS. 

Quite right. 

LERMA. 

As I all unexpectedly 
Walk'd into the King's cabinet, I thought 
1 saw the very same one in his hands, 
And Marquis Posa stood by him — 

CARLOS. 

(after a short pause, bewildered with vehemence) 

That is 

Not true. 

lerma. (irritably) 
Then I must be a liar clearly. 

CARLOS. 

(looks at him a long time) 

That are you. Yes. 

lerma. 
Ah ! I forgive you that. 

CARLOS. 

(walks up and down in fearful agitation and at last 

stops before him) 
What serious injury has he done to you? 
What have the harmless ties of friendship done, 
Which you exert such fiendish diligence 
To tear asunder ? 

LERMA. 

Prince, I do respect 
The pang which makes you so unreasonable. 

CARLOS. 

O ! God ! O ! God ! God guard me from suspicion. 



192 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



LERM A. 

I recollect too the King's very words; 

Just as I enter'd, " how much thanks " he said, 

" Do I owe you for this intelligence ! " 

CARLOS. 

O! still! Be still! 

LERM A. 

Duke Alba is dismiss'd — 
From Prince Ralph Gomez the great seal withdrawn, 
And given to the Marquis — 

CARLOS. 

{lost in deep meditation) 
And he hid 

That from me ! Wherefore did he hide it from me ? 

LERMA. 

Already the whole court looks up to him, 
As minister omnipotent, and as 
Absolute favourite — 

CARLOS. 

He lov'd me once, 
He lov'd me warmly. I was dear to him, 
As his own soul, O ! that I know — 1 know— 
A thousand proofs have demonstrated that. 
Shall then not millions, shall his father-land 
Not claim a warmer sympathy than one? 
His bosom for his one friend was too great, 
And Carlos' welfare for his love too small. 
He sacrifi c'd me to his virtue ? — Yes ! 
Now it is certain ! I have lost him now! 

(he goes aside and hides his face) 
lerma, (after a pause) 
What, best of Princes, can I do for you ? 

CARLOS. 

(ivithout looking at him) 
Go to the King, and compromise me too. 
I have nothing to offer you. 



scene xin. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



193 



LERMA. 

Will you 

Await what may ensue ? 

CARLOS. 

{throws himself on the balustrade and looks out 
wildly before him) 

I have lost him. 
O! now I'm wholly destitute indeed! 

LERMA. 

(approaches him with sympathetic emotion) 
Will you not think about your rescue? 

CARLOS. 

Of 

My rescue ? — feeling man ! 

LERMA. 

And besides that 
Have you to tremble for none else? 

carlos. {starts up) 

O! Heav'n! 
What do you bring back to my recollection ! — 
My mother ! The letter, which I gave him back ! 
First would not leave and then left it with him ! 
(he paces backwards and forwards in agitation, 

wringing his hands) 
By what has she deserv'd it from him then? 
He should have spar'd her, Lerma, should he not? 

(suddenly, having made up his mind) 
I must to her — I must give her warning, 
Must put her on her guard — Lerma, dear Lerma — 
Whom send I then? Have I then no one more? 
Yes ! God be prais'd ! Still one friend — and from this 
No worse result can follow. 

(exit hastily) 

lerma. 

| . (follows and calls after him) 

Whither? Prince! 
(exit), 

AA 



194 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



SCENE XIV. 
The Queen. Alba. Domingo. 

ALBA. 

If we may have permission, mighty Queen — 

QUEEN. 

What are my Lord's commands'? 

DOMINGO. 

Honest attachment, 
Devotion to your Royal Majesty's 
Exalted person will not suffer us 
To watch in careless silence an event 
Which menaces your safety. 

ALBA. 

We hasten 
By timely warning giv'n to counteract 
A plot, which is devis'd against you — 

DOMINGO. 

And 

At the feet of your Majesty to lay 
Our zeal — our services. 

QUEEN. 

{looks at them with astonishment) 
You, rev'rend Sir, 
And you, my noble Duke, indeed surprise me. 
I had in truth no reason to expect 
To meet with such attachment on the part 
Of Domingo and Duke Alba. I know 
How I should value it — you mention to me 
A plot, which threatens me. May I enquire 
Who — 

ALBA. 

We entreat you to be on your guard 



w 



scene xiv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 195 

Against a Marquis Posa, who is charg'd 
With secret service for his Majesty. 

QUEEN. 

I hear with pleasure that the Monarch makes 
So good a choice. The Marquis has long since 
Been mention'd to me as a man of worth, 
As a great man. The Monarch's highest favour 
Was never better bestow'd — 

DOMINGO. 

Better bestow'd? 

e know the contrary. 

ALBA. 

It has long been 
No secret for what purposes this man 
Has been employ'd. 

QUEEN. 

How ? What can this be ? You 
Put all my expectation on the stretch. 

DOMINGO. 

Is it long since your Majesty examin'd 
Your casket the last time ? 

QUEEN. 

How? Why? 

DOMINGO. 

And have you 

Miss'd nothing valuable from out of it? 

QUEEN. 

How so? Why? All my Court is well aware 
What I have miss'd — and Marquis Posa? What 
Connection can the Marquis have with that? 

ALBA. 

Your Majesty, the closest — and the Prince 

Also has lost papers of consequence, 

Which were seen in the King's hand this morning — 

During the private audience of the Knight. 



AA 2 



19(5 



DON CARLOS, act. iv. 



QUEEN. 

(after some consideration) 
Right strange ! By Heav'n ! extremely singular ! 
] find a foe, of whom I never dream'd, 
And on the other hand two friends, whom it 
Never occurr'd to me that I possess' d — 
And truly — 

(while she gives a piercing look at them both) 
I must own, I was in danger — 
Of laying to your charge the wicked service 
Done to me by my Sovereign. 

ALBA. 

Our's? 

QUEEN. 

To yours. 

D03IINGO. 

To ours, Duke Alba? 

QUEEN. 

(still keeping her eyes steadily fixed on them) 
How then am I pleas'd 
That I have been made sensible so soon 
Of my precipitation — I already 
Had been resolv'd to beg his Majesty 
This very day to bring me face to face 
With my accusers. Now so much the better ! 
Because that now I can avail myself 
Of the Duke Alba's testimony. 

ALBA. 

Mine? 

Will you do so in earnest? 

QUEEN. 

And why not? 

DOMINGO. 

To frustrate all the services which we 
In confidence — 



scene xiv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



197 



QUEEN. 

In confidence ? 
(with haughtiness and seriousness) 
I then 

Should like to know, Duke Alba, what your Sovereign's 
Consort could possibly concert about 
With you, or you, Priest, which her husband might 
Not know Am I then innocent or guilty? 

DOMINGO. 

What a demand ! 

ALBA. 

But if the King were not 
So just ? If he were not so now at least ? 

QUEEN. 

Then must I wait until he is so — well 
Is it for him who has somewhat to gain, 
When he becomes so ! 

(she makes them a bow and exit. They exeunt by 
the other side). 



SCENE XV. 
Princess Ebolt. Immediately after Don Carlos, 
eboli. 

Is it then true, th' extraordinary news 

Which is already spread thro' the whole Court? 

carlos. (enters) 
Princess, do not alarm yourself! I will 
Be gentle, as a child. 

eboli. 

Prince — this surprise. 

CARLOS. 

Are you offended still ? Still ? 

EBOLI. 

Prince ! 



190 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



carlos. (more urgently) 
Are you 

Offended still? I beg you tell me this? 

EBOLI. 

What does this mean ? You seem, Prince, to forget — 
What seek you from me? 

CARLOS. 

(grasping her hand violently) 
Maiden, can'st thou hate 
For ever? Does wounded love ne'er forgive? 

EBOLI. 

(trying to extricate herself) 
Of what do you remind me, Prince? 

CARLOS. 

Of thy 

Kindness and my ingratitude — Alas ! 
I know it well ! Deeply, maiden, have I 
Offended thee, wounded thy gentle heart, 
And wrung hot tears from these angelic eyes — 
And am not here, alas! a penitent. 

EBOLI. 

Prince, leave me — I — 

CARLOS. 

I come, because thou art 
A gentle maiden, since I built upon 
Thy good, thy tender soul. See maiden, see 
I have no longer one friend on this earth, 
But thee alone. Once thou wert so good to me — 
Thou wilt not always hate, thou wilt not be 
Irreconcileable. 

eboli. (turns away her face) 
O still ! — no more 
For God's sake, Prince ! — 

CARLOS. 

Let me remind thee of 
Those golden days — let me remind thee of 



scene xv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



199 



Thy love, maiden, thy love, to which I made 

So thankless a return. O let me now 

Turn to advantage, what I was to thee, 

And what thy fond heart's dreams have given me. 

Once more — once only re-establish me, 

As I then was, in thy affection, and 

Sacrifice to this shadow, what thou can'st 

To me, never more sacrifice to me. 

EBOLI. 

O ! Carl ! How cruelly you sport with me! 

CARLOS. 

Be greater than thy sex. Forgive offences ! 
Do, what no woman e'er before thee did, 
No woman ever will do after thee. 
Something unheard of I require of thee — 
Let me — upon my knees I supplicate — 
Let me, let me say two words to my mother. 

(he throws himself down before her). 



SCENE XVI. 

The same. Marquis Posa rushes in, behind him 
two Officers of the Royal Body Guard. 

MARQUIS. 

(out of breath dashing furiously between them) 
What has he then confess'd? Believe him not! 

CARLOS. 

(still on his knees in a loud tone) 
By all that's holy — 

MARQUIS. 

(interrupts him with vehemence) 
He is mad. Do not 

Believe a madman. 



200 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



CARLOS, (more loud and urgent) 
Oh ! It is a matter 
Of life and death. Conduct me to her. 

M ARQUIS. 

(tears the Princess from him by force) 

I 

Will murder you, if you listen to him. 

{to one of the Officers) 
Count of Cordoba ! In the Monarch's name. 

(he produces the warrant) 
The Prince is your prisoner. 

(Carlos stands silent as if thunder-struck. The 
Princess utters a loud scream, and tries to run 
away. The Officers are amazed. A long and 
deep pause. They see the Marquis tremble very 
violently and with difficulty preserve his presence 
of mind) 

(to the Prince) 
I request 

Your sword — You, Princess Eboli, remain. 

(to the officer) 

And you will be responsible for it 

That none speak to his Highness — no one — none — 

Not e'en yourself, at peril of your head! 

(he says something in a whisper to the officer, then 

turns to the others) 
I throw myself now at the Monarch's feet, 
T' explain the matter to him — 

(to Carlos) 

And you too — 
You, Prince, expect me in an hour's time. 
(Carlos allows himself to be led away icithout signs 
of consciousness: in going out he casts a dying 
look of desolation at the Marquis who hides his 
face. The Princess attempts once more to run 
away ; the Marquis pulls her back by the arm). 



scene xvn. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



201 



SCENE XVII. 
Princess Eboli. Marquis Posa. 
eboli. 

For mercy's sake, leave me this spot — 

MARQUIS. 

(drags her forwards with fearful violence) 
What has he 

Said to thee, wretch? 

EBOLI. 

Nothing — leave me — nothing — 

MARQUIS. 

(holds her hack forcibly. More seriously) 
How much hast thou discover'd? No escape 
Is left thee. Thou wilt tell it unto none 
In this world. 

EBOLI. 

(looks in his face frightened) 
What mean you by that ? Great God ! 
You will not murder me ? 

marquis, (draws a dagger) 
In fact, I am 
Most strongly prompted so to do. Be brief! 

EBOLI. 

Me ? O ! eternal mercy ! Me ? What have I 
Been guilty of? 

MARQUIS. 

(looking to Heaven, the dagger on her bosom) 
There is still time. The poison 
Has not yet issued from these lips. I dash 
The cup to atoms, and all still remains, 
As it has been — the destiny of Spain, 
And a woman's life ! — 

(he remains in that position hesitating) 

BB 



202 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



EBOLI. 

(is simk at Ms feet and looks firmly in his face) 
Now? Why tarry you? 
I beg* not mercy — No ! I have deserv'd 
To die, and die I will. 

MARQUIS. 

(lets his hands drop slowly. After short consideration) 

That were dastardly, 
As it is barbarous — No ! God be prais'd ! 
There is another remedy remaining" ! 
(he lets the dagger fall and hurries away. The 
Princess rushes out at another door). 



SCENE XVIII. 

An apartment of the Queen. 

The Queen to the Countess Fuentes. 

"What does this uproar in the Palace mean? 
Every noise to-day affrights me, Countess. 
O ! go and see then, bring me word, what is 
Th' occasion of it. 
(exit Countess Fuentes. Princess Eboli rushes in). 



SCENE XIX. 
The Queen. Princess Eboli. 
eboli. 

(breathless, pale and disfigured drops before the Queen) 
Queen ! To his assistance ! 

He is arrested. 



scene xix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



QUEEN. 

Who? 

EBOLI. 

The Marquis Posa 
Arrested him by order of the King. 

QUEEN. 

Arrested whom ? 

EBOLT. 

The Prince. 

QUEEN. 

Rav'st thou. 

EBOLI. 

E'en now 

They lead him off. 

QUEEN. 

And who arrested him ? 

EBOLI. 

he Marquis Posa. 

QUEEN. 

Now then God be prais'd, 
t is the Marquis who arrested him ! 

EBOLI. 

o you say that so calmly, Queen, so coldly? 
! God ! You suspect not — you know not — 

QUEEN. 

Why 

He is arrested — for some thoughtlessness, 

As I suppose, which is most natural, 

From the young man's impetuous character. 

EBOLI. 

No ! No ! I know it better — No — ! Queen ! 
Abandon'd, hellish deed ! — For him there is 
No rescue more ! He dies ! 

QUEEN. 

He dies ! 



BB 2 



204 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



EBOLI. 

And I— 

I am his murderer. 

QUEEN. 

He dies? Madwoman, 

Do you reflect? 

EBOLI. 

And why — and why he dies! 
O ! could I but have known that it would come 
To this! 

QUEEN. 

{takes her kindly by the hand) 
Princess, you still are wandering. 
Collect your senses first to tell it me 
More calmly, not in colouring so full 
Of horror, that it harrows up my soul. 
What do you know then ? What has taken place ? 

EBOLI. 

Oh not this heavenly condescension, not [ing 
This kindness, Queen ! Like flames of Hell fierce burn- 
It racks my guilty conscience. I am not 
Worthy before your Sanctity to raise 
My glance of profanation. Extirpate 
The wretch, who crouches at your feet o'erwhelm'd 
With penitence, with shame, and self-reproach. 

QUEEN. 

Unhappy one ! What have you to confess? 

EBOLI. 

Angel of light! Great Holy one! You know, 
You suspect not the daemon, whom you have 
Smil'd on, so full of love — learn then to-day 
To know her. I — I was the thief who robb'd you. 

QUEEN. 

You? 

EBOLI. 

And gave up those letters to the King. 



scene xix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



205 



QUEEN. 

You? 

EBOLI. 

And who had the hardihood t' accuse you — 

QUEEN. 

You? You could — 

EBOLI. 

Vengeance — love — insanity — 
1 hated you and lov'd th'Infante — 

QUEEN. 

You lov'd— 

You lov'd him? 

EBOLI. 

And because I made confession 
Of my love to him, and found no return. 

queen, (after a pause) 
O ! now all is unravell'd to me ! — Rise ! 
You lov'd him — I've forgiven you — now then 
It is forgotten — rise ! 

(the Queen offers her her arm) 

EBOLI. 

No ! No ! Still, still 
A dread confession is behind. Great Queen, 
Not before — 

queen, (attentive) 
What have I to hear? Speak on — 

EBOLI. 

The King — seduction — oh ! you turn away 
Your eyes — I read abhorrence in your face — 
The crime with which I charg'd you, I committed. 

(she presses her burning face on the ground) 

(exit Queen) 

Long pause. After some minutes the Duchess Oliva- 
rez comes out of the Cabinet into which the Queen 
entered and finds the Princess still lying in the 
same posture. She approaches her in silence, at 



206 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



the sound the latter raises herself, and starts up 
like a mad woman, when she does not find the 
Queen any longer there). 



SCENE XX. 
Princess Eboli. Duchess Olivarez. 
eboli. 

God ! She has left me ! — It is over now. 

olivarez. (comes nearer to her) 

Princess Eboli. 

EBOLI. 

Duchess, I know well 
Why you are come, the Queen sends you t' announce 
My sentence to me — Quick ! 

OLIVAREZ. 

I have receiv'd 

Her Majesty's commands your Cross and Key 
To take in my possession — 

EBOLI. 

{takes a golden order from her breast and gives it 
into the Duchess 9 hands) 
Is it then 

Permitted me once more to kiss the hand 
Of the best of Queens ? 

OLIVAREZ. 

In St. Mary's Cloister 
You'll be inform'd what is resolv'd upon 
About you. 

eboli. (bursting into tears) 
Do I see the Queen no more? 
olivarez. 

(embraces her with her face turned away) 



scene xx. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



207 



May you be happy ! 

(exit in haste. The Princess follows her to the 
door of the Cabinet, which is immediately closed 
after the Duchess. She remains some minutes 
silent and immoveable on her knees, then gets up 
and hurries away with her face concealed). 



SCENE XXI. 
The Queen. Marquis Posa. 

QUEEN. 

Ah ! Marquis, you at last ! How fortunate 
That you are come ! 

MARQUIS. 

(pale, with disturbed countenance, faultering voice, 
in solemn deep agitation through the whole scene) 
Is your Majesty alone? 
Can no one hear us in the next apartment? 

QUEEN. 

No one — but why? What tidings do you bring? 

(she looks closer at him and starts back alarmed) 
And how completely alter'd? What is this? 
You make me tremble, Marquis — all your features 
Distorted like a dying man's — 

MARQUIS. 

You know 

Already probably — 

QUEEN. 

That Carl has been 
Arrested, and by you in fact, they add — 
Is it then really true ? I would believe it 
From no one but yourself. 

MARQUIS. 

It is true. 



208 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



QUEEN". 

And 

By you ? 

MARQUIS. 

By me. 

QUEEN. 

(looks at him some moments in doubt) 

1 do respect your plans, 
Even when I do not well comprehend them — 
This time however — pardon timid woman — 
I fear you play a game of desperation. 

MARQUIS. 

I've lost it. 

QUEEN. 

God in Heaven ! 

MARQUIS. 

Be quite calm, 
My Queen. Provision is already made 
For him, I've lost it for myself. 

QUEEN. 

What shall 

I hear? Great God! 

MARQUIS. 

Who then, who tempted me 
To set my all upon a doubtful throw? 
All ? So fool-hardy, so self-confident 
To play with Heav'n? Who is the man, who will 
Take on himself to steer the pond'rous rudder 
Of destiny, and he is not th'Omniscient? 
O ! it is just ! — But why now of myself? 
The moment is as precious, as the life 
Of a man ! And who knows, if the last drops 
For me, are not already measur'd out 
By the Dispenser's parsimonious hand? 

QUEEN. 

By the Dispenser's hand — this solemn tone? 



scene xxr. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



209 



I comprehend not what this language means, 
But it horrifies me — 

MARQUIS. 

He is rescued ! 
At what price he is so, it matters not ! 
But only for to-day. He has few moments 
To call his own. Let him be careful of them, 
This very night he must fly from Madrid. 

QUEEN. 

This very night? 

MARQUIS. 

The measures are devis'd. 
In that Carthusian Convent which has been 
For a long time the refuge of our friendship, 
The post awaits him, and here is the sum 
Which fortune gave me in this world, consign'd 
In letters of exchange. The rest you add. 
In truth I had still much upon my heart, 
Much for my Carl, still much that he must know ; 
And it is possible I may not have 
Leisure to settle all with him in person — 
You speak to him this evening, for this 
I come to you. 

QUEEN. 

Marquis, for my peace' sake, 
Explain yourself more clearly and distinctly — ■ 
Speak not to me in such alarming riddles — 
What has occurr'd? 

MARQUIS. 

A grand confession still 
Have I to make, I place it in your hands. 
It was my lot good fortune to enjoy 
Few e'er have had : I lov'd a Prince's son — 
My heart devoted but to one alone, 
Encompass'd the whole world ! — 1 have created 
In Carlos' soul a Paradise for millions. 

cc 



210 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



O! yes, my dreams were lovely. But it pleas' d 
Great Providence to call me hence before 
The season, ere my fair plan was matur'd. 
Soon will he have his Roderick no more; 
The friend is merg'd in th' object of his love. 
Here — here — upon this holy altar, here — 
In the heart of his Queen do I deposit 
My last, most valuable legacy, 
Here let him find it, when I am no more — 

(lie turns away, tears choke his voice) 

QUEEN. 

That is the language of a dying man, 

Yet still 'tis but the working of your blood 

] hope — or is there meaning in these words? 

MARQUIS. 

(has endeavoured to collect himself, and proceeds in 

a solemn tone) 
Say to the Prince that he must recollect 
The oath we swore upon the broken wafer 
In those enthusiastic days — mine I 
Have kept, faithful have I remain'd to it 
E'en unto death — 'tis his part now, his own — 

QUEEN. 

To death? 

MARQUIS. 

Let him— O ! do you tell him so ! 
Realize the bold visionary dream, 
The visionary dream of a new state, 
Friendship's divine conception. Let him lay 
The first hand upon this unpolish'd stone. 
Whether he bring it to perfection, or 
Sink in the effort — all alike to him ! 
O ! let him make th' attempt. When centuries 
Have roll'd away, Providence will place again 
A Prince's son, like him, upon a throne, 
Like his, and kindle the same holy fire 



scene xxi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 211 



In its new fav'rite. Tell him to remember 
The dreams of youth, when he becomes a man, 
Not to expose to the destructive insect, 
To better vaunted Reason, the heart of 
The delicate divine flow'r — that he ne'er 
Must waver, should the wisdom of the dust 
Slander the child of Heaven, Inspiration, 
I have already told him — 

QUEEN. 

Marquis? What? 
And to what end tends this — 

MARQUIS. 

Say you to him, 
That I impress upon his soul the welfare 
Of human kind, that I require it of him — 
Require it in my dying 1 hour ! and am 
Most urgent on that point. I had design'd 
To make a new and brighter morning dawn 
Upon these realms. The King gave me his heart, 
Gave me the title of his son — I hold 
His signet, and his Albas are no more. 

(he stops and looks some moments in silence at 
the Queen) 

You weep — these tears, sweet soul, I understand. 
Joy makes them flow. But it is past, is past. 
Carl or myself. The choice was instant and 
Terrible. One was lost, and I will be 
That one — I willingly; seek not to know 
The rest. 

QUEEN. 

Now, now do I begin at last 
To catch your meaning — O ! unfortunate, 
What have you done? 

MARQUIS. 

But two short evening hours 
Given away, in order to secure 

cc 2 



212 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



A whole clear summer day. The King have I 

Resigned. What can I be then to the King? — 

In this stiff soil none of my roses bloom — 

The destiny of Europe is raatur'd 

In my illustrious friend ! Spain I commend him — 

Let her bleed under Philip's hand till then ! 

But woe to Carlos, woe to me and him, 

Should I have reason to repent, that I 

Have chosen for the worse perhaps ! — No ! No ! 

I know my Carlos — that will never be — 

And you, Queen, are my surety. 

{after a pause) 

I have watch'd 
This love's first germs, I saw it root itself, 
This most ill-fated passion in his heart — 
Once it was in my pow'r to combat it — 
I did it not. I foster'd this attachment, 
Which did not seem to me unnatural — 
The world may judge it otherwise. I repent not. 
My heart does not upbraid me. I saw life, 
Where it death only — in this hopeless flame 
Early I glanc'd a golden rav of hope. 
I wish'd to lead him to the Excellent, 
To raise him up to the meridian 
Of loveliness ; mortality denied me 
A model, language words — then I directed 
His views to this — and my whole object was 
T' explain to him his love. 

QUEEN. 

Marquis, your friend 
Engross'd you so completely, you forgot me 
Eor him. Did you then seriously believe 
Me so devoid of woman's weaknesses, 
That you made me his Angel, and his weapon 
Virtue? You did not well consider this, 
How much is to be ventur'd for our heart, 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 



213 



If by this title we ennoble passion. 

MARQUIS. 

Yes, for all women, for one only, not. 

For one I swear — or will you be asham'd, 

You blush to feel the noblest of desires, 

To be the parent of heroic virtue? 

What boots it to King Philip if the painter 

Standing 1 before his Glory in th' Escurial 

Kindle the spark of immortality? 

Does the sweet harmony which slumbers in 

The harp, belong to him who purchases, 

And keeps it with deaf ear? He purchases 

The privilege of dashing it to atoms — 

But not the art to wake its silver tones, 

And melt it into music's ecstacy. 

The truth is obvious to the man of wisdom, 

And beauty to the feeling heart. They both 

Belong to one another. This belief 

No dastard prejudice shall rob me of. 

Promise you me eternally to love him, 

Never induc'd by fear of men, by false 

Fancied heroic courage to a vain 

Denial, always and unchangeably 

To love him; do you promise me this? — Queen — 

Do you promise it upon my hand? 

QUEEN. 

My heart 

1 promise you alone and always shall 
Be the disposer of my love. 

MARQUIS. 

(draws back his hand) 
Now then 

I die content — my labour is completed. 

(he bows to the Queen and is going) 

QUEEN. 

(follows him with her eyes in silence) 



214 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT IV. 



Will you go, Marquis, without telling me 
If we — how soon — shall meet again? 

marquis. 

(comes back once more, his face turned away) 

For sure ! 

We meet again. 

QUEEN. 

I understood you, Posa — 
Perfectly understood you — why have you 
Acted thus tow'rds me ? 

marquis. 

He or I? 

QUEEN. 

No ! No ! 

You plunge yourself into this act, which you 

Call dignified. Only disown it not. 

I know you, you have panted for it long — 

A thousand hearts may break, what matters it 

To you, so that your pride be satisfied. 

O ! now — I learn to understand you now ! 

You have coquetted but to make effect. 

MARQUIS. 

(taken by surprise and overcome) 
No ! I was not prepar'd for that — 

queen, (after a pause) 
Marquis, 

Is there no rescue possible? 

MARQUIS. 

None. 

QUEEN. 

None? 

Consider well. Is there none possible? 
Not e'en thro' me? 

MARQUIS. 

Not e'en thro' you. 



scene xxi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



215 



QUEEN. 

You know me 
Only by halves — I am possess' d of courage. 

MARQUIS. 

1 know it. 

QUEEN. 

And there is no rescue? 

MARQUIS. 

None. 

QUEEN. 

(leaves him and hides her face) 
Go you ! From henceforth no man I esteem. 

MARQUIS. 

(throwing himself bejore her in violent agitation) 
Queen! Queen! O! God! life truly still is sweet ! 
(he starts up and exit quickly. The Queen goes into 
her Cabinet). 



SCENE XXII. 

The King's Ante-Room. 

Duke Alba and Domingo walk up and down in 
silence and distracted. Count Lerma comes out 
of the King's Cabinet, then Don Raymond of 
Taxis, the Postmaster General. 

LERMA. 

Has not the Marquis yet made his appearance? 

ALBA. 

Not yet. 

lerma. (going in again) 
taxis, (steps forward) 
Announce me to the King, Count Lerma. 



21G 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



LERM A. 

He is for no one — 

TAXIS. 

I must speak to him — 
Say, that upon it matters of the utmost 
Importance to his Majesty depend. 
Haste, it brooks no delay. 

(Lerma goes into the Cabinet) 

ALBA. 

(comes to the Postmaster General) 
Dear Taxis, you 
Must practice patience. You speak not to the King — 

TAXIS. 

No ? Wherefore then ? 

ALBA. 

You should have had the foresight 
T' obtain permission of the Marquis Posa, 
Who has made son and father prisoner. 

TAXIS. 

Of Posa? How? Quite right! That is the same 
From whose hand I have just receiv'd this letter — 

ALBA. 

Letter? What letter? 

TAXIS. 

Which I had to forward 

To Brussels — 

alba, (eagerly) 

Brussels ! 

TAXIS. 

Which I now am taking 

Unto the King — 

ALBA. 

Brussels ! Hear you, Chaplain ? 

To Brussels ! 

domingo. (comes up) 
That — that is suspicious very. 



scene xxn. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



217 



TAXIS. 

And with what caution, what embarrassment 
It was consign'd to me ! 

DOMINGO. 

Caution? Indeed! 

ALBA. 

To whom is it address'd ? 

TAXIS. 

The Prince of Nassau 

And Orange. 

ALBA. 

William? — Chaplain, that is treason! 

DOMINGO. 

What could it else be? Yes, in truth you must 
Convey this letter to the King forthwith. 
How meritorious of you, worthy man, 
To be so active in your Sovereign's service ! 

TAXIS. 

Right-worthy Sir, I only did my duty. 

ALBA. 

You have done well. 

lerma. (comes out of the Cabinet) 
(to the Postmaster) 
The King will speak to you. 
(Taxis goes in) 

The Marquis still not here? 

DOMINGO. 

They're seeking him 

Every-where. 

ALBA. 

Strange and singular. The Prince 
State-prisoner, and the King himself uncertain 
On what account ? 

DOMINGO. 

He did not even come 

T' explain the matter. 

dp 



213 



DON CARLOS, act. iv. 



ALBA. 

How did the King take it? 

LERMA. 

The King spoke not a word. 

(a noise in the Cabinet) 

ALBA. 

What's that? Hush! Hush! 

taxis, (out of the Cabinet) 

Count Lerma ! 

(they both go in) 

alba, (to Domingo) 
What is going on? 

DOMINGO. 

In this 

Tone of alarm? This intercepted letter — 
1 augur, Duke, no good. 

ALBA. 

He call'd for Lerma! 
And he must know we 're in the Ante-room — 

DOMINGO. 

Our day is past. 

ALBA. 

Am I the same no more 
To whom here formerly all doors sprang open? 
How all is chang'd about me here — how strange — 

DOMINGO. 

(has opened the door quietly and stands listening) 
Hark! 

alba, (after a pause) 
All is still as death. One hears them breathe. 

DOMINGO. 

The double tapestry deadens the sound. 

ALBA. 

Away! They come. 

domingo. (leaves the door) 
I feel so anxious, so 



scene xxii. A DRAMATIC POEM, 



219 



Excited, just as if this moment were 
Decisive of some great event. 



SCENE XXIII. 

Prince of Parma, Dukes Feria and Medina 
Sidonia come in with other Grandees, The same, 

PARMA. 

The King, 

May he be spoken with? 

ALBA. 

No. 

PARMA. 

No? Who is 
With him? 

FERIA. 

The Marquis Posa without doubt ? 

ALBA. 

They are just now expecting him. 

PARMA. 

We are 

Return'd from Saragossa at this moment — 

Th' alarm spreads thro' Madrid ! Is it then true? 

ALBA. 

Alas! yes. 

FERIA. 

Is it true ? Has he been plac'd 
Under arrest by the Maltese ? 

ALBA. 

It is. 

PARMA. 

Why ? What has happen' d ? 

dd 2 



220 



DON CAKLOS, 



ACT IV. 



ALBA. 

Why? That no one knows 
Besides his Majesty and Marquis Posa. 

FARM At 

Without the convocation of the Cortes'? 

FERIA. 

Woe unto him who has participated 
In this State-violation. 

ALBA. 

Woe to him ! 

So say I too. 

MEDINA SIDONIA. 

And I. 

THE OTHER GRANDEES. 

And all of us. 

ALBA. 

W T ho follows me into the Cabinet ? — 
I throw myself at the King's feet. 

LERMA. 

(hurries out of the Cabinet) 
Duke Alba ! 

DOMINGO. 

At last ! Praise be to God ! 

(Alba hastens in) 

LERMA. 

(out of breath in great agitation) 
If the Maltese 
Should come, the King is not alone just now, 
He will send for him — 

DOMINGO. 

(to Lerma, while all the rest throng round him full 
of anxious expectation) 

Count, what has occurr'd? 
You are as pale as death. 

lerma. (going hastily aivay) 
Fiendish ! 



scene xxiii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



221 



PARMA and FERIA 

What? What? 

MEDINA SIDONIA. 

How does the King? 

domingo. (quickly) 

Fiendish ? What is it then ? 

LERMA. 

The King has wept. 

DOMINGO. 

Has wept ? 

ALL 

(at once, in mutual astonishment) 
The King has wept? 
(they hear a bell ring in the Cabinet) 
(Count Lerma hastens in) 

DOMINGO. 

Count, one more word — excuse me — he is gone ! 
And we remain here riveted with fear ! 



SCENE XXIV. 

Princess Eboli, Feria, Medina Sidonia, Parma, 
Domingo, and other Grandees. 



EBOLI. 

(in haste, above herself) 
Where is the King? Where? I must speak to him. 

(to Feria) 
You, Duke, conduct me to him. 

FERIA. 

The Monarch 
Is occupied with matters of importance. 
None is admitted. 



222 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. IV. 



EBOLI. 

Is he already signing 
The fearful sentence ? He's deceiv'd. 

DOMINGO. 

(gives her a signijicent look from the distance) 

Princess 

Eboli! 

eboli. (goes towards him) 
You there too, Priest? Right! I need you. 
You shall confirm me in it. 

(she seizes his hand to drag him into the Cabinet) 

DOMINGO. 

Princess? I? — 

Are you beside yourself? 

FERIA. 

Hold ! He will not 

Now hear you. 

EBOLI. 

He must hear me. Hear the truth ! 
Must hear the truth ! where he ten times a God ! 

DOMINGO. 

Away ! Away ! Hold back ! You're risking all. 

EBOLI. 

Wretch, tremble thou before thy idol's wrath. 
/ have no more to risk. 

(as she is endeavouring to get into the Cabinet, 
rushes out) 

DUKE ALBA. 

(his eyes glisten, triumph is in his mien. He hastens 
towards Domingo and embraces him) 

Sing a " Te Deum" 
In all the churches. Victory is ours ? 

DOMINGO. 

Ours? 

ALBA. 

(to Domingo and the other Grandees) 
To the King now. You hear more from me. 



scene i. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



223 



ACT V. 

A Room in the Royal Palace, divided off from a 
large outer court by an iron-grated door, in which 
Guards walk backwards and forwards. 



SCENE I. 



Carlos sitting at a table, his head leaning forward 
on his arm, as if he were asleep. In the back of 
the Apartment, some Officers who are confined 
with him. Marquis Posa comes in without being 
observed by him, and whispers to the Officers, who 
immediately withdraw. He himself comes quite 
close to Carlos and looks at him some moments in 
silence and grief At last he makes a movement 
which awakens the latter from his reverie. 



(rises, and seeing the Marquis starts back in alarm. 
He then watches him some time with his eyes fixed, 
and passes his hand over his brow as if he would 
consider of something) 

MARQUIS. 

'Tis I, Carl. 

CARLOS. 

(gives him his hand) 
Dost thou come to me indeed? 
O ! truly that is very kind. 



224 



DON CAULOS, 



ACT V. 



MARQUIS. 

I thought 

Thou mightest stand in need here of thy friend. 

CARLOS. 

Indeed! Dost thou mean that in earnest? Look ! 
That gladdens me — gladdens me unspeakably. 
Ah! I knew well, that thou stood'st firm to me. 

MARQUIS. 

I have indeed deserv'd it at thy hands. 

CARLOS. 

Is it not so? O! we quite understand 

Each other. So it gratifies me. This 

Forbearance, this benevolence becomes 

Great souls, like thee and me. Suppose the case, 

That one of my requests were foolish and 

Unreasonable, but must thou then refuse me 

One that is reasonable therefore too? 

Virtue may be severe, but cruel never, 

Unmanly never. — It has cost thee much ! 

O ! yes, methinks, I know right well how much 

Thy gentle heart has bled, as thou attir'd'st 

Thy sacrifice for the altar. 

MARQUIS. 

Carlos ! 

What meanest thou by that? 

CARLOS. 

Yes — thou thyself [not — 
Wilt now complete, what I should have — but could 
Thou wilt bestow on Spain those golden days 
Which she had hop'd from me in vain. With me 
Indeed 'tis over — 'tis for ever over. 
That haddest thou foreseen — this fearful love 
Has swept away irrevocably all 
My spirit's early blossoms. I am dead 
For thy grand hopes. Or Providence or chance 
Brings the King to thee — it costs me my secret, 



scene r. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



225 



And he is thine — thou may'st become his Angel. 

For me there is no rescue more — perhaps 

For Spain — Ah! here there's nothing to condemn, 

Naught, naught, but my infatuated blindness 

Not to discover till this very day, 

That thou art great — as thou art tender-hearted. 

MARQUIS. 

No ! That, that have I not foreseen — have not 
Foreseen, that friendship's generosity 
Were more ingenious than my worldly prudence. 
My fabric's shatter'd — I forgot thy heart. 

CARLOS. 

Had it indeed been possible for thee 

To spare her this calamity — for that, 

See, I had thank'd thee most unspeakably. 

Could I then not experience it alone? 

Must she too be the second sacrifice? 

But peace on that ! I will not burden thee 

With one reproach. What is the Queen to thee? 

Lov'st thou the Queen ? Or shall thy rigid Virtue 

Regard the petty int'rests of my love? 

Pardon me — I was unjust. 

MARQUIS. 

That art thou. 
But — not for this reproach. Deserv'd I one, 
Deserve I all — and then I should not stand 
Before thee thus. 

(he takes out his pocket-book) 
Here I have brought thee back 
Some of the letters which thou charg'd'st me with. 
Take charge of them thyself. 

CARLOS. 

(looks first at the letters then at the Marquis 
in astonishment) 
How? 



226 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



MARQUIS. 

I return them 
To thee, because just now they may be left 
Tn thy hands with more safety than in mine. 

CARLOS. 

What is that? Did the King" not read these too? 
Did he not catch a glimpse of these at all ? 

MARQUIS. 

These letters? 

CARLOS. 

Did'st thou then not show him all? 

MARQUIS. 

Who told thee that 1 shew'd him any one? 

CARLOS. 

(in the utmost astonishment) 
What? Is it possible? Count Lerma. 

MARQUIS. 

Did 

He tell thee so? Yes! now, now all is clear — 
Who could foresee that too? — and Lerma also? — 
No, the man never has learnt how to lie. 
'Tis so; the King has got the other letters. 

CARLOS. 

(looks at him a long time in speechless 
astonishment) 
But wherefore am I here then? 

MARQUIS. 

For precaution, 
Lest thou might'st be indue'd a second time 
To choose an Eboli for confidante. 

CARLOS. 

(as if awakened from a dream) 
Ha ! Now at last ! I see it now — now all — 
Now all at once is brought to light — 

marquis, (goes towards the door) 
Who comes? 



scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



227 



SCENE IX. 
Duke Alba. The same. 

ALBA. 

(approaches the Prince respectfully, turning his back 

on the Marquis during the whole scene) 
Prince, you are free. His Majesty the King 
Has sent me hither to announce it to you. 

(Carlos looks at the Marquis in astonishment. 
General silence) 
Prince, at the same time I esteem myself 
Fortunate, that I am the first who has 
The favour — 

CARLOS. 

(looks at them both in the utmost astonishment. 
After a pause to the Duke) 
I have been made prisoner 
And set at liberty, unconscious why 
I am the one or th' other. 

ALBA. 

By mistake, 

As far, Prince, as I know, the which a certain 
— Perfidious one has led the Monarch into. 

CARLOS. 

But is it by the King's command that I 
Am here? 

ALBA. 

Yes, thro' an error on his part. 

CARLOS. 

That gives me pain indeed — but if the King 
Commits an error, it behoves the King 
To make amends in his own person for it. 



EE 2 



228 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



(he seeks the Marquis's eyes, observing a haughty 
distance towards the Duke) 
1 have the title of Don Philip's son. 
The eyes of curiosity and slander 
Rest on me. What his Majesty has done 
From sense of duty, I will never seem 
To thank your favour for. Besides I am 
Prepar'd to be arraigned before the Cortes — 
I take not back my sword from such a hand. 

ALBA. 

The King- will not delay an instant in 
According to your Highness a request 
So reasonable, if you will vouchsafe me 
Permission to escort you to him. 

CARLOS. 

I 

Remain here, till the King or his Madrid 
Release me from this dungeon. Deliver 
This answer to him. 

(Alba tcithdraics, they see him stop in the court- 
yard giving orders). 



SCENE III. 
Carlos and Marquis Posa. 

CARLOS. 

(When the Duke is gone, full of expectation and 
astonishment to the Marquis) 

But what is all this ? 
Explain it me. Art thou not Minister? 

MARQUIS. 

I have been, as thou see'st. 



SCENE in. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



229 



{going towards him in great agitation) 
O ! Carl, it has 
Work'd well. It has. It has succeeded, now 
It is complete. Prais'd be Omnipotence, 
Who suffer'd it to succeed! 

CARLOS. 

To succeed? What? 
I do not comprehend thy words. 

marquis, {grasping his hand) 
Thou art 

Sav'd, Carl — art free — and I — 

{he stops) 

CARLOS. 

And thou? 

MARQUIS. 

And I— 

I press thee to my heart for the first time 
With full, with complete justice ! Truly I 
Have purchas'd it with all that's dear to me — 
O! Carl, how sweet, how glorious is this moment! 
I am contented with myself. 

CARLOS. 

What means 
This sudden change of countenance? I have 
Ne'er seen thee thus. Proudly thy bosom heaves, 
And thine eyes glisten. 

MARQUIS. 

Carl, we must take leave. 
Be not alarm'd. O ! be a man ! What thou 
Hast yet to hear, Carl, promise not to make 
This separation more heart-rending by 
Ungovernable grief unworthy of 
Great souls — thou losest me — for many years, 
Carl — fools call it for ever. 

{Carlos draws back his hand, looks wildly at him 
and does not answer) 



230 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



Be a man ! 

I have built much upon thy fortitude, 

Nor hesitated to endure with thee 

The anxious hours, call'd awfully the last — 

Yes, Carl, shall I confess it? The idea 

Of this delighted me — Come — let us sit down — 

I feel myself exhausted and o'ercome. 

(lie approaches Carlos, who is still deadly bewildered 
and lets himself be drawn down by him with in- 
difference) 

Where art thou? Dost thou make me no reply? — 
I will be brief. The day after we met 
For the last time in the Carthusian Convent, 
The King requir'd my presence. What ensued 
Thouknow'st, knows all Madrid. This know'st thou not 
Thy secret was betray'd to him — and letters 
Found in the casket of the Queen were proofs 
Against thee — that I learn'd this from his mouth, 
And that — I was his confidant. 

(he stops expecting Carlos 9 reply : he persists in his 
silence) 

Yes, Carl! 

With my lips I broke my faith. 1 myself 
Guided the plot which prepar'd thy ruin. 
The fact already cried too loud. To clear 
Thee altogether 'twas too late. T'ensure 
Myself against his vengeance, that was all, 
All that remain'd for me — and so I was 
Thy enemy in order to assist thee 
More efficaciously — dost thou not hear ? 

CARLOS. 

I hear. Proceed, proceed. 

MARQUIS. 

Thus far am I 
Blameless. But soon the unaccustom'd rays 
Of this new Royal favour dazzled me. 



scene nr. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



231 



The rumour reach'd thee as I had foreseen. 

But then persuaded by false delicacy, 

And blinded by ambition of completing" 

My enterprise without thee, rashly I 

Withheld from friendship my important secret. 

That was the great mistake of hasty zeal. 

Grievously have 1 err'd. I know it well. 

My confidence was madness. Pardon — 'twas 

Eternity bas'd upon thy friendship. 

(here he pauses. Carlos from being petrified becomes 

violently agitated) 
That which I dreaded, happen'd. They affright thee 
With phantoms of imaginary dangers. 
The Queen lies bleeding — the alarm re-echoed 
Throughout the palace — Lerma's hapless zeal — 
And last of all my unaccountable 
Silence, combine at once to storm thy breast 
Thus taken by surprise — thou waverest — 
Thou giv'st me up for lost — thyself too noble 
To doubt the candour of thy friend, thou deck'st 
With greatness his apostacy, now first 
Thou ventur'st to believe him faithless, since 
Thou dar'st respect him faithless tho' he be. 
Abandon'd by thy friend, thou throw'st thyself 
Into the arms of Princess Eboli ; — 
Unfortunate! Into a daemon's arms; 
For she 'twas, who betray'd thee. 

(Carlos starts up) 
I perceive 
Thee hasten in. A dread presentiment 
Pervades my heart. I follow thee. Too late. 
Thou liest at her feet, and the avowal 
Already has escap'd thy lips. For thee 
No rescue more — 

CARLOS. 

No! No! She was affected. 



232 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. 



Thou art deceiv'd. She surely was affected. 

MARQUIS. 

There was it night to all my fondest hopes! 

No refuge — no retreat — no remedy — 

None in all Nature's compass! Recklessness 

Makes me a fury — a wild beast — I place 

The dagger on a woman's breast — but now — 

Now falls a sunbeam on my soul. " If I 

"Deceiv'd the King? Could I succeed in making 

"Myself appear the guilty one? Likely 

"Or not! Enough for him, specious enough 

"For the King Philip, because it is evil ! 

" Be it so ! I will venture it. Perhaps 

"A thunder-bolt that strikes him unawares 

" May make the tyrant start — and what have I 

"More to desire? He hesitates, and Carl 

" Gains time to fly to Brabant." 

CARLOS. 

And this then — 

And hast thou done this ? 

MARQUIS. 

I have written to 
William of Orange that I lov'd the Queen, 
That I succeeded in escaping from 
The King's suspicion, by the jealousy 
Which fell on thee unjustly — that I found 
Means thro' the King himself t'approach the Queen 
Without restraint. To this I added that 
I'm apprehensive of discovery, 
That thou inform'd of my attachment, hasten'd'st 
To Princess Eboli, perhaps to warn 
The Queen by means of her — that I have made 
Thee prisoner here, and now, since all is lost, 
Am meditating to set off for Brussels — 
This letter— 



scene hi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



233 



CARLOS. 

(interrupting him alarmed) 
Thou hast not confided to 
The post-office ? Thou knowest that all letters 
For Brabant and for Flanders — 

MARQUIS. 

Are deliver'd 
Unto the King — as matters stand, already 
Taxis has done his duty. 

CARLOS. 

I am lost ! 

MARQUIS. 

Thou ? Wherefore thou ? 

CARLOS. 

Thou too unfortunate 
Lost with me. Such a monstrous fraud my father 
Cannot forgive thee. No ! Forgive it never ! 

MARQUIS. 

A fraud ! Thou art distracted. Calm thyself. 
Who tells him, 'tis a fraud ? 

CARLOS. 

(looks wildly in his' face) 
Who? Askestthou? 

Myself. 

(going out) 

MARQUIS. 

Thou'rt mad ; hold back ! 

CARLOS. 

Away ! Away ! 
For God's sake, stop me not! While I am ling'ring 
Here, he is tampering with the murderers. 

MARQUIS. 

Of so much more importance is the time. 
We still have much to say to one another. 

CARLOS. 

What? Ere he all— 

FF 



234 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



(he is again going, the Marquis takes him by the 
arm and looks at him significantly) 

MARQUIS. 

Hear, Carlos — was I too 
So quick, so conscientious, when thou bled'st 
For me a boy there? 

CARLOS. 

(remains standing before him affected and full of 
wonder) 

O ! good Providence ! 

MARQUIS. 

Preserve thyself for Flanders! To govern 
Is thy behoof. 'Twas mine to die for thee. 

CARLOS. 

(goes to him and takes him by the hand full of the 

deepest emotion) 
No! No! He will — withstand he cannot ! Such 
Sublime devotion he cannot withstand! 
I will conduct thee to him — we will go 
Arm in arm to him. Father, I will say, 
This has a friend done for his friend. It will 
Affect him. He is not, believe me, lost 
To all humanity, my father. Yes! 
Surely it will affect him. With warm tears 
His eyes will overflow, and thee and me 
Will he forgive — 

(a shot comes through the grating. Carlos starts up) 
Ha! whom is that meant for ? 

MARQUIS. 

I believe — for me — 

(he falls doicn) 

CARLOS. 

(falls down beside him on the ground with a cry of 
horror) 
O ! Heavenly mercy ! 



scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



235 



marquis, (with faultering voice) 
He's quick — the King — I had hop'd longer — think 
About thy rescue — hearest thou? — thy rescue — 
Thy Mother knows all — I — I can no more — 
(Carlos remains lying hy the corpse like a dead man. 
After a time the King comes in, accompanied by 
many Grandees, and at sight of this starts back 
embarrassed. A general and deep pause. The 
Grandees place themselves in a semi-circle about 
them both, and look alternately at the King and 
his Son. The latter still lies without signs of 
life — the King ivatches him in meditative silence). 



SCENE IV. 

The King. Carlos. The Dukes Alba, Feria, 
and Medina Sidonia. The Prince of Parma. 
Count Lerma. Domingo and many Grandees. 

ICING. 

(in a tone of kindness) 

Thy wishes have been granted, my Infante. 

Here I, with all the Grandees of my realm, 

Myself am here t' announce to thee thy freedom. 

(Carlos looks up and stares about him like one awaken- 
ed from a dream. His eyes rest first on the King 
and then on the deceased. He makes no answer) 

Take back thy sword. They dealt too hastily. 

(He approaches him, stretches out his hand and helps 
him to rise) 

Rise ! My son is not in his proper place. 

Come to thy father's arms ! 



FF 2 



236 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



CARLOS. 

(receives the King's embrace unconsciously — but sud- 
denly bethinks himself] stops and looks steadily at 
him) 

Thy scent is murder. 

I cannot embrace thee. 
(he pushes him back, all the Grandees are excited) 

No ! stand not thus 
Confounded there ! What have I done so monstrous? 
Touch'd Heav'n's anointed? Fear nothing. I lay 
No hand on him. Do ye not see the brand 
Of fire upon his brow? God has mark'd him. 

KING. 

(suddenly interrupts him) 
Follow me, my Grandees ! 

CARLOS. 

Whither? Not from 

This place, Sire — 

(he seizes him forcibly with both hands, and gets 
hold of the sword which the King has brought, 
with one hand. He unsheathes it) 

KING. 

The sword drawn on thy father? 
all the grandees, (draw their s) 

Regicide ! 

CARLOS. 

(holding the King with one hand, the drawn sword 
in the other) 
Sheathe your swords ! What will ye then ? 
Think ye, I am mad? No, I am not mad. 
Were I so, ye would not do well, to bring it 
Into my recollection, that his life 
Depends on my sword's point. I beg of you 
Hold back. A state like mine requires to be 
Treated with gentleness — therefore hold back! 
That which I have to settle with this Monarch 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



237 



Has no connexion with your oaths as vassals. 
Look only, how his fingers bleed! Observe 
Him well ! O ! look here too — this has he done, 
The mighty Artist ! 

KING. 

(to the Grandees who press anxiously about him) 
Stand back all of ye ! 
Why tremble ye? — Are we not son and father? 
I will await, whate'er depravity 
Nature may — 

CARLOS. 

Nature? I know nought of her. 
Murder is now the word. Humanity 
Become extinct her ties are torn asunder. 
Thyself, Sire, hast dissolv'd them in thy realms. 
Should / revere, what thou tread'st under foot? 
O! look! Look here ! No murder such as this 
To-day was done before — Is there no God? 
What ? Dare then Kings treat thus atrociously 
The works of his Creation? I demand 
Is there no God? Since mothers have giv'n birth, 
One only — one so undeserving died — 
Art thou aware what thou hast done too ? No, 
He knows it not, knows not he robb'd the world, 
Of a more precious, a more noble life, 
More valuable than he and all his age. 

ktng. (in a gentle tone) 
If I have been too violent, does it 
Become thee, for whom I was so, to call me 
To account for it? 

CARLOS. 

How? Is it possible? 
You do not guess what the deceas'd was to me — 
O ! tell it him — aid his Omniscience 
To solve the difficult riddle. The deceas'd 
Was my friend — and will ye know why he died? 



238 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



For me he died. 

KING. 

Ha ! my presentiment. 

CARLOS. 

Forgive, thou bleeding corse, that I profane 
Thee to such ears! Let this great observer 
Of human nature sink down low for shame, 
That a young man's sagacity, out-reach'd 
His hoary wisdom. Yes, Sire ! We were brothers, 
Brothers united by a nobler tie 
Than nature ever forg'd. The whole career 
Of his fair life was love. Love for me was 
His fair, his noble death. Mine was he when 
He honour'd you with his esteem, when his 
Humourous eloquence coquetted with 
Your haughty giant spirit. You imagin'd 
To master him, and were the pliant tool 
Of his more lofty plans. My arrest was 
His friendship's well deliberated work. 
To rescue me, that letter sent to Orange — 
O ! God ! 'twas the first falsehood of his life ! 
To rescue me, he sacrific'd himself, 
Courted the arms of death, which he endur'd. 
You bestow'd on him your confidence — he died 
For me. You forc'd on him your heart, your friendship, 
Your sceptre was a plaything in his hands; 
He threw it down and died for me ! 
(the King stands without emotion, his eyes steadi- 
ly fixed on the ground. All the Grandees look 
at him embarrassed and alarmed) 

And was 

It possible? Could you give credit to 

This monstrous lie? How lightly must he prize you 

That he could undertake to overreach you 

With such a clumsy juggling. You ventur'd 

To court his friendship, and you fell beneath 



scene iv. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



239 



This easy trial ! O ! no — no, that was 
Nothing* for you. That was no man for you ! 
That knew he well himself, when he abandon'd 
You with all crowns. This sensitive chord broke 
In your metallic hand. You could do nothing, 
But murder him. 

ALBA. 

(has till now not taken his eyes off the King, and 
observes his agitation with visible uneasiness which 
works in his countenance. He now approaches 
him timidly") 

Sire — not this deathlike silence ! 
Look round about you ! Speak to us ! 

CARLOS. 

You were 

Not disregarded by him. Long ago 

You had possess' d his sympathy. Perhaps? 

He might have made you happy e'en. His heart 

Was rich enough to gladden you out of 

Its superfluity. The splinters of 

His talent might have made a god of you. 

You, you have robb'd yourself, yourself and me. 

What will you offer, to replace a spirit 

Such as this was? 

(a deep silence. Many of the Grandees look aside 
or hide their faces in their mantles) 
O ! ye who stand around, 
Struck dumb with horror aud amazement — O ! 
Condemn not a young man who addresses 
This language to his father and his Sovereign — 
Look here! He perish'd for me ! Have ye tears? 
Does blood, not burning brass flow in your veins? 
Look here, condemn me not ! 

(he turns to the King with more presence of mind 
and calmness) 

You wait to see 



240 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



How this unnatural history will end? 

Here is my sword. You are my King* again. 

Think you I tremble at your vengeance? Murder 

Me also, as you murder'd the most noble. 

My life is forfeited. I know it. What 

Is life to me now? Here do I renounce 

All that awaits me in this world. Seek you 

A son 'mong strangers. There my kingdoms lie — 

(he falls down on the corpse and takes no farther 
part in what follows. In the mean time they 
hear at a distance a confused clamour of voices 
and a great crowd of people. A deep silence about 
the King. His eyes pass round the whole circle 
but no one meets his gaze) 

KING. 

What now? Will no one answer? Ev'ry eye 
Fix'd on the ground — and ev'ry countenance 
ConceaPd! — My sentence is pronounc'd. In these 
Dumb looks I read it openly declared. 
My subjects have pass'd judgment on me. 

(the former silence — the tumult comes nearer and 
waxes louder. A murmur runs through the sur- 
rounding Grandees, they look at each other embar- 
rassed. Count Lerma at length quietly touches 
Duke Alba) 

LERMA. 

Truly ! 

That — that is tumult ! 

alba, (in a whisper) 
So I am afraid. 

LERMA. 

They force their way up here. They come. 



scene v. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



241 



SCENE V. 

An Officer of the Guard. The same. 

officer, (pressing forward) 
Rebellion ! 

Where is the Sovereign ? 

(he forces his way through the crowd and hastens 
towards the King) 

All Madrid in arms. 
By thousands the infuriate soldiery, 
The mob surround the palace. The Prince, they say, 
Is plac'd in durance, and his life in danger. 
The people will see him alive, or all 
Madrid will they abandon to the flames. 

all the grandees, (in alarm) 
Rescue ! Rescue the King ! 

ALBA. 

(to the King, who stands quiet and unmoved) 
Make your escape 
Sire — there is danger — we know not as yet 
Who arms the people — 

KING. 

(awakens from his reverie, raises himself up and 
steps among them with majesty) 

Is my throne still standing? 
Am I still Sovereign of this land? — No, I 
Am so no more. These cowards weep, become 
Faint-hearted thro* a boy. They only wait 
The signal to revolt from me. I am 
Betray'd by rebels. 

ALBA. 

Sire ! What fearful fancy ! 

KING. 

There ! Prostrate yourself there ! Prostrate yourself 



242 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



Before the young", new-blossoming King! — I 
Am nothing more — an impotent old man. 

ALBA. 

Is it come to this? — Spaniards! 

{they all press round the King and kneel before him 
with drawn swords. Carlos remains alone, aban- 
doned by all, beside the corpse) 

KING. 

{tears off his cloak and throws it from him) 

Attire him 

In Royal garments — bear him o'er my corpse 
Trodden under foot — 

{he swoons in Alba's and LermuHs arms) 

LERMA. 

Help! 

FERIA. 

What an accident ! 



LERMA. 



O! God! 

He swoons. 

ALBA. 

{leaves the King in Lerma's and Ferid *s hands) 
Convey him to his bed. 
In the mean time I give peace to Madrid. 

{Exit. The King is carried away, and all the 
Grandees accompany him). 



SCENE VI. 

Carlos remains alone beside the corpse. After some 
minutes, Louis Merkado makes his appearance, 
looks about anxiously, and stands a long time be- 
hind the Prince without being observed by him. 



scene vi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



243 



MERKADO. 

I come, Prince, from her Majesty, the Queen. 

{Carlos looks away and gives him no answer) 
Merkado is my name — her Majesty's 
Private physician — here are my credentials. 
(he shews the Prince a signet-ring. He persists in 

his silence) 
The Queen desires to speak to you to-day 
On matters of importance — 

CARLOS. 

Nothing more 
Is matter of importance in this world 
To me. 

MERKADO. 

She mention'd a commission, which 
The Marquis Posa left — 

carlos. (starts up) 

What ?— How ! Forthwith. 

(he is going) 

MERKADO. 

No ! Not now, gracious Prince. You must await 
The night. Each avenue is watch'd, and all 
The guards are doubled there. Impossible 
To pass unnotic'd this wing of the palace. 
You would risk all — 

CARLOS. 

But— 

MERKADO. 

One means only, Prince, 
Is there at most — the Queen has hit upon it ; 
And she proposes it— But still it is 
Singular, daring, and adventurous. 

CARLOS. 

It is? 

MERKADO. 

For some time, as you are aware, 

gg 2 



•244 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. 



'Tis rumour'd that at midnight in Monk's garb 

The ghost of the departed Emperor 

Stalks thro' the vaulted corridors. The people 

Believe this story ; the guards occupy 

This post with apprehension. If you are 

Determin'd to make use of this disguise, 

You can pass on, unhinder'd and unharm'd, 

Thro' all the guards to the Queen's apartment, 

Which this key will open. The sacred garb 

Protects you from all interference. But 

You must make up your mind, Prince, on the spot 

The necessary dress, the mask, you'll find 

In your apartment. I must hasten back 

To take the answer to her Majesty. 

CARLOS. 

The time? 

MERKADO. 

At twelve o'clock. 

CARLOS. 

Tell her she may 

Expect me. 

{Exit Merkado). 

SCENE VII. 
Carlos. Count Lerma. 

lerma. 

Save yourself, my Prince, the King 
Is furious against you. A design 
Against your liberty — if not your life. 
Question me no further. I stole away 
To give you warning. Fly without delay! 

CARLOS. 

I am in the hands of the Omnipotent. 



scene vir. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



245 



LERMA. 

As the Queen has just now observ'd to me, 
This very day you must leave Spain, and fly 
To Brussels. O! do not, do not delay! 
The tumult is in favour of your flight; 
With view to this the Queen encouraged it. 
They will not venture now to exercise 
Violence against you. In the Convent 
Of the Carthusians the post awaits you, 
And here are arms, if you should be oblig'd — 

(he gives him a dagger and a pocket-pistol) 

CARLOS. 

Thanks, thanks, Count Lerma ! 

LERMA. 

Your discourse to-day 
Affected me most deeply. No friend more 
Loves thus! All patriots sympathize with you. 
More dare I not say now. 

CARLOS. 

Count Lerma, this 
Departed one call'd you a man of honour. 

LERMA. 

Again then, Prince ! a happy journey to you. 
Better times will come ! But I shall be no more. 
Deign to receive my homage here at once. 

(he kneels on one knee before him) 

CARLOS. 

(much affected wishes to restrain him) 
Not so — not so — Count — you distress me — I 
Would not be weak — 

LERMA. 

(kisses his hand with feeling) 

Sovereign of my children! 
My children, they will dare to die for you. 
I dar'd it not. Think of me in my children. 
Return to Spain in peace. ! be a man, 



246 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



Upon King Philip's throne. You have known sorrow. 
Devise no scheme of blood against your father ! 
No scheme of blood, my Prince ! Philip the Second 
Compeli'd your grandsire to resign his throne — 
And this same Philip trembles here to-day 
Before his son! Think upon that, my Prince — 
And so may Heav'n be with you ! 
(He hurries away, Carlos is in the act of doing so 
by another door, but turns back suddenly, throics 
himself before the corpse of the Marquis, which 
he once more presses in his arms, and then leaves 
the room in haste). 



SCENE VIII. 
The King's Ante-Room. 

The Dukes Alba and Feria enter conversing. 

ALBA. 

Madrid is quiet. How left you the King? 

FERIA. 

In the most fearful humour. He has lock'd 

His Cabinet; whatever may occur, 

He will not suffer any one to enter. 

The Marquis' treachery has all at once 

Chang'd his whole nature. We know him no more. 

ALBA. 

I must to him. This time I cannot spare him. 
A serious discovery made just now — 

FERIA. 

A new discovery? 

ALBA. 

A Carthusian Monk, 
Who crept by stealth into the Prince's room, 



scene viii. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



247 



And heard them tell of Marquis Posa's death 

With a suspicious curiosity, 

Excited the attention of my guards. 

They seize him. Question him. The fear of death 

Draws out a secret from him, that he is 

The bearer of important documents 

Which the deceas'd confided to his charge 

To be deliver'd in the Prince's hand, 

If he should not present himself again 

To him 'fore sunset. 

FERIA. 

Now? 

ALBA. 

The purport of 
These letters is, between midnight and day-break 
Carlos must leave Madrid. 

FERIA. 

What? 

ALBA. 

That a vessel 

Is lying ready to set sail at Cadiz 
To carry him to Flushing — that the States 
Of the Netherlands only wait for him 
To throw off the Spanish yoke. 

FERIA. 

Ha! What's that? 

ALBA. 

Some letters state too, that the Turkish fleet 
Already has set sail from Rhodes — t' attack 
The Spanish Monarch in accordance with 
The treaty, in the Mediterranean. 

FERIA. 

Can it be possible ? 

ALBA. 

These letters now 
Explain the journey which the Maltese made 



248 



DON CARLOS, 



A C 



Lately throughout all Europe. Its design 
Was nothing- less than all the Northern Powers 
To arm in aid of Flemish liberty. 

FERIA. 

That was it ! 

ALBA. 

With these letters is enclos'd 
A systematiz'd plan of the whole war, 
To sever from the Spanish Monarchy 
The Netherlands for ever. Nothing, nothing 
O'er looked, force and resistance calculated, 
All the resources of the country, all 
Her strength is regularly specified, 
All maxims to be followed, all the treaties 
That should be enter'd into. The idea 
Is fiendish, but in very truth — divine. 

FERIA. 

Impenetrable traitor! 

ALBA. 

In these letters 
Mention is made too of a secret meeting 
The Prince must hold the evening of his flight 
With the Queen mother. 

FERIA. 

How ? That is to-day. 

ALBA. 

This midnight. I have given orders too 
Already to anticipate this case. 
You see, that it is urgent. Not a moment 
Is to be lost — open the King's apartment! 

FERIA. 

No! Entrance is forbidden. 

ALBA. 

Then myself 
I open it — danger so imminent 
Justifies this intrusion — 



scene vnr. A DRAMATIC POEM. 249 

(as he is going towards the door, it opens, and the 
King comes out) 

FERIA. 

Ha! Himself! 



SCENE IX. 

The King with the same, 

(All are shocked at his appearance, make way for 
him and let him pass through respectfully. He enters 
in a waking dream like a sleep-walker. His dress 
and mien shew the disorder in which the Jit he had 
has left him. With slow steps he goes past the 
Grandees who are present, looks at each wildly 
without taking notice of any one. At last he stops 
thoughtful, his eyes fixed on the ground, till his 
emotion becomes audible). 

KING. 

Give me back this deceas'd! I must have him back ! 

domingo. (whispering to Duke Alba) 

Speak to him. 

king, (as before) 
He thought ill of me, and died. 
He must think of me otherwise. 

alba, (approaches him timidly) 
Sire— 

KING. 

Who 

Speaks here ? 

(he looks a long time round the circle) 
Have they forgotten who I am? 
Creature, why are you not upon your knees? 

HH 



250 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



I still am King. Submission will I see. 

Do all then slight me, because one despis'd me? 

ALBA. 

No more of him, my Sovereign ! A new foe, 
Of far more weighty consequence than this, 
Has sprung up in the centre of your Kingdom. 

FERIA. 

Prince Carlos — 

KING. 

Had a friend who died for him — 
For him ! — With me he might have shar'd a kingdom ! 
How he look'd down on me ! One looks not down 
So proudly from a throne. Was it not clear, 
How much he prided himself on the conquest? 
What he had lost his agony confess'd: 
One weeps not thus for ought that's perishable — 
That he still liv'd! I'd give an Indies for it. 
Omnipotence, Thou art no Comforter, 
Thou cans't not stretch thine arm into the grave, 
Cans't not repair one little act committed 
Precipitately 'gainst the life of man ! 
The dead arise no more. Who dare tell me 
That I am fortunate ? One who withheld 
Esteem from me is tenant of the tomb. 
What are the living to me? One spirit, 
One independent man sprung up in all 
This century — one — he despises me, 
And dies. 

ALBA. 

So have we liv'd in vain ! — Let us 
Then, Spaniards, to the grave! Even in death 
This fellow robs us of our Sovereign's heart ! 

KING. 

(sits down his head resting on his arms) 
Had he died then for me! I lov'd him, lov'd 
Him much. Dear was he to me as a son. 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



251 



In this young man, a new, a brighter morn 
Had dawn'd upon me. Who knows, what I had 
Reserv'd for him ! He was my first love. Let 
All Europe curse me ! Europe may well curse me. 
From this one have I deserv'd gratitude. 

DOMINGO. 

Thro' what infatuation — 

KING. 

And for whom 
Did he make such a sacrifice ? The boy, 
My son? No, never. I believe it not. 
A Posa dies not for a boy. Friendship's 
Poor flame absorbs not all a Posa's heart. 
That beat for all mankind. His passion was 
The world with all its future generations. 
To gratify it did he find a throne — 
And pass it by ? Would Posa pardon him 
Such treason tow'rds his favorite mankind? 
No. I know Posa better. He did not 
Philip to Carlos sacrifice, but merely 
The old man to the young one, his disciple. 
The new day's labour recompenses not 
The father's setting sun. That they reserve 
For the approaching rising of his son — 
O ! it is clear, they wait for my demise. 

ALBA. 

Read, Sire, the confirmation in these letters. 

king, (rises) 
But he may have miscalculated. Still, 
Thanks, Nature ! I exist. I feel my nerves 
Have still the strength of youth. I will make him 
A laughing-stock. His virtue be a wild 
Dreamer's chimsera, and his death, a fool's. 
His fall o'erwhelm his era, and his friend ! 
Let us see how they dispense with me. Still 
The world is for an evening mine. I will 

hh 2 



'252 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



Employ this evening so, that after me 

No husbandman for ten generations 

May reap a harvest from this burning ruin. 

He sacrific'd me to his idol, Man. 

Let man atone to me for him — and now — 

I will begin upon his puppet. 

(to Duke Alba) 
What 

Concerning the infante? Repeat it me. 
What do these letters tell me? 

ALBA. 

These letters 
Contain the legacy of Marquis Posa, 
Sire, to Prince Carl. 

KING. 

(looks hastily through the papers, in doing which he 
is watched closely by the spectators. When he 
has read a long time, he puts them aside and 
walks silently through the room) 

Call me the Cardinal 

Inquisitor. I beg of him to grant me 

A single hour. 

(one of the Grandees goes out : the King takes back 
the papers, reads on, and lays them once more aside) 
It is this very night then. 

TAXIS. 

The post will stop at the Carthusian Convent 
At two o'clock. 

ALBA. 

And people I sent out 
Saw various travelling materials 
Distinguishable by the Royal arms 
Convey'd into the Convent. 

FERIA. 

Sums of money 
Are also plac'd in Moorish agents' hands 
In the Queen's name to be consign'd to Brussels. 



scene ix. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



253 



KING. 

Where did ye leave th' Infante ? 

ALBA. 

By the corpse 

Of the Maltese. 

KING. 

Are lights still visible 
In the Queen's chamber? 

ALBA. 

All is quiet there. 
Her ladies also are dismiss'd much sooner 
Than is the custom. The Duchess Arcos, 
Who last of all came out of her apartment, 
Left her already sunken in deep sleep. 
(An Officer of the Body -Guard comes in, and takes 
Duke Feria aside, and whispers to him. He turns 
towards Duke Alba embarrassed, the others crowd 
round him and a murmuring ensues) 

feria, taxis, domingo. (all at once) 
Extraordinary ! 

KING. 

What is that? 

FERIA. 

A tale 

Which, Sire, is barely credible — 

DOMINGO. 

Two Swiss 

Who have just left their post, affirm — it is 
Absurd to mention. 

KING. 

Now? 

ALBA. 

The Emperor's ghost 
Appear'd within the left wing of the palace, 
And with commanding solemn step stalk'd by them. 
All the guard also who are station'd there 



254 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. \ 



Along that corridor confirm the fact, 
And add besides the spectre disappear'd 
Within the Queen's apartment. 

KING. 

In what guise 

Did he appear ? 

OFFICER. 

In the same dress he wore 
In Justi on the very last occasion 
As monk of Hieronymus. 

KING. 

As monk ? 

Did then the soldiers know him when alive? 

Or how else knew they that it was the Emperor ? 

OFFICER. 

The sceptre, which he carried in his hand, 
Was proof that it must be the Emperor. 

DOMINGO. 

And as the story goes, he has been seen 
Already several times in the same garb. 

KING. 

Has no one spoken to him? 

OFFICER. 

No one dar'd. 
The guard mutter'd their pray'r and let him pass 
Thro' them respectfully. 

KING. 

And in the Queen's 
Apartment th' apparition disappear'd? 

OFFICER. 

In the Queen's ante-room. 

(a general silence) 

KING. 

{turns hastily round) 
What did you say? 

ALBA. 

Sire, we are mute. 



SCENE IX. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



255 



KING. 

Let the guard be under arms, 
And barricade each entrance to this wing. 
I'm anxious to hold parley with this ghost. 

(exit Officer. Immediately after a Page enters) 

PAGE. 

The Cardinal Inquisitor, Sire ! 

king, (to those present) 
Leave us. 

(the Cardinal Inquisitor, an old man of ninety and 
blind, supported by a stick and conducted by two 
Dominicans. As he passes through the circle all the 
Grandees throw themselves before him and touch the 
hem of his garment. He gives them a benediction. 
They all withdraw). 



SCENE X. 

The King and the Grand Inquisitor. 
(a long pause) 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Stand I before the King ? 

KJNG. 

Yes. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

I deem'd not 

I should do so more. 

KING. 

I renew a scene 
Of years gone by. Philip th' Infante asks 
Counsel of his preceptor. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

My pupil 

Carl your great father needed counsel never. 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



KING. 

So much the happier was he. Cardinal, 
I have committed murder, and no rest — 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

On what account have you committed it ? 

KING. 

A fraud which is unparallell'd — 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

I know it. 

KING. 

What do you know? — from whom? — since when? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

For |ears, 

What you have known since sunset. 

KING. 

(tcith astonishment) 

Did you know 

Already of this man? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

His life is mark'd 
In the holy registers of Santa Casa 
From first to last. 

KING. 

And yet he mov'd about 

At liberty? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

The cord on which he flutter'd 
Was long, but still could not be torn asunder. 

KING. 

He once was out of my dominions. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Wherever he might be, there I was also. 

KING. 

(paces indignantly backwards and forwards) 
They were aware whose hands I was in — why — 
Did they neglect to give me warning of him? 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



257 



GRAND INQUISITOR. 

This question I retort — why did you not 

Enquire, before you threw yourself into [one-— 

This miscreant's arms? You knew him ! One glance — > 

Unmask'd to you the heretic — what could 

Induce you to defraud the Holy Office 

Of such a^sacrifice ? Do they sport thus 

With us? If Majesty degrade itself 

To play the smuggler's part — behind our backs 

Have understanding with our bitt'rest foe, 

What can we do? If one find favour, on 

What plea of justice can an hundred thousand 

Be sacrific'd? 

KING. 

He too is sacrific'd. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

No ! he is murder'd — wickedly — by stealth ! 

The blood which should have flow'd conferring fame 

On Us, the hand of an assassin shed. 

The wretch was Ours — by what authority 

Touch'd you the Order's sacred property? 

He was rais'd up to perish at Our hands. 

God gave him to this Age's exigence, 

To make a bye-word of the braggart Reason 

By his extravagant abuse of talent. 

That was my long well superstructure plan, 

It lies thrown down the toil of many years! 

We are defrauded, you have nothing gain'd 

But bloody hands. 

KING. 

Passion o'erpower'd me. 

Forgive me ! 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Passion? — does Philip the Infante 
Answer me? Am / then alone grown old? 
Passion ! 



258 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



(with an indignant shake of the head) 
Let conscience in thy realms be free, 
If thou art groaning under chains thyself. 

KING. 

I am a novice in these matters still. 
Have patience with me. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

No ! Sire, I am not 
Satisfied with you — all your former reign 
Thus to defame! Where was the Philip then 
Whose soul unshaken as the Polar star 
For ever and immutably revolves 
Round its own axis in the firmament? 
W as all the past sunk in oblivion 
Behind you? Was the world the same no more 
That moment, when you begg'd of him his hand? 
Was poison then no longer poison ? Was 
The party-wall 'twixt good and evil, truth 
And falsehood trodden down? To what purpose 
Js resolution ? Is consistency, 
And manly firmness, if in a moment 
Of lukewarmness a rule of sixty years 
Like the caprice of woman melts away? 

KING. 

I look'd in his eyes. — Pardon this relapse 

Into mortality, the world has one 

Less access to your heart. Your eyes are clos'd. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

W 7 hat could this wretch for you ? What novelty 
Could he have to exhibit to you which 
You were not prepar'd for ? Are you so little 
Acquainted with enthusiasm and zeal 
For innovation? Or did the language 
Of braggart world-improving reformation 
Pour on your ear a sound unwonted? If 
The edifice of vour conviction fall 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 259 

With simple words — with what face I must ask 
Sign you the sentence of a hundred thousand 
Weak souls, who mount the pile for nothing* worse? 

KING. 

T long'd after a man. These Domingos — 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

What are men good for ? Men are mere cyphers 

For you, nought else. Must 1 go o'er again 

The elementary rules of government 

With my grey-headed pupil ? Let the God 

Of this world learn no longer to require 

That which may be withheld from him — If you 

Sigh after sympathy, belong you to 

A world that's not your equal ? And what claims, 

I would demand, can you have to advance 

Above your equal ? 

KING. 

(throws himself into a chair) 
I am a little man, 
I feel it — thou requirest of the creature, 
What the Creator only can perform. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

No, Sire, I am not to be trifled with, 

You are scann'd thro' and thro' — you wish'd to slip 

Away from us. The Order's heavy chains 

Gall you; you would be free and independent. 

(he pauses. The King is silent) 
We are reveng'd — thank you the Church, which is 
Satisfied to chastise you like a mother. 
The choice which she permitted you to make 
Thus blindly, was your chastisement. You are 
Admonish'd, and you now come back to us. 
Linger'd I not before you now — by Heav'n! 
You would be plac'd before me thus to-morrow. 

KING. 

None of this language. Moderate yourself, 



2G0 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



Priest, I endure it not. I will not hear 
Myself address'd in such a tone. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Wherefore 
Did you call up the soul of Samuel? — 
I gave two Kings the throne of Spain, and hop'd 
To leave behind a firm-establish'd work. 
1 see the labours of my life undone. 
Don Philip's self shatters my edifice. 
And now, Sire — wherefore am I summon'd? What 
Shall I do here? I am not minded to 
Repeat this visit. 

KING. 

Still one labour more, 
The last — then mayest thou depart in peace. 
Let the past be forgotten, and between us 
Peace be concluded — Are we reconcil'd? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

If Philip bows him in humility. 

king, (after a pause) 
My son is meditating treason. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

What 

Do you resolve? 

KING. 

Nothing — or all. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

And what 

Does all mean here? 

KING. 

I let him fly, if I 

Cannot put him to death. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Now, Sire. 

KING. 

Can'st thou 

Establish a new creed which justifies 



scene x. A DRAMATIC POEM. 2(51 

The bloody murder of a son? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

To reconcile 
Eternal Justice, suffer'd on the Tree 
The Son of God. 

KING. 

Thou will'st disseminate 
This doctrine throughout Europe? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

As far as 

They hold the cross in veneration. 

KING. 

I 

Sin against nature — will'st thou silence too 
This powerful voice ? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

No voice of nature has 
Authority before our faith. 

KING. 

I place 

My right of judgment in thy hands — Can I 
Retrace my steps entirely ? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Give him me. 

KING. 

It is my only son — for whom have I 
Gather'd? 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

For desolation, rather than 

Liberty. 

king, (rises) 
Come with me. We are agreed. 

GRAND INQUISITOR. 

Whither? 

KING. 

To take the victim from my hands. 

(he leads Mm away) 



262 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT. V. 



LAST SCENE. 
The Queen's Apartment. 
Carlos. The Queen. At last the King. 

CARLOS. 

(in a Monk's dress, and a mask on his face, which he 
is just taking off. Under his arm a drawn sword. 
He seems wrapt in thought. He approaches a door 
which opens. The Queen comes out in a night 
dress with a light burning. Carlos kneels on one 
knee before her) 

Elizabeth ? 

QUEEN. 

(calm but sad, stops on perceiving him) 
Thus do we meet again? 

CARLOS. 

Thus do we meet again. 

(pause) 

QUEEN. 

(endeavouring to collect herself) 
Rise! We will not 
Unnerve ourselves, Carl. The illustrious dead 
Will not be honour'd by our fruitless tears. 
Tears may be shed for lighter suffering ! — 
He gave himself a sacrifice for you. 
With his own precious life he purchas'd yours. 
And for a mere chimaera did he bleed? 
Carlos, myself I have been surety for you. 
With my security he left this world 
More satisfied. Will you make me a liar? 

carlos. (spiritedly) 
I will erect a monument to him 



scene xi. A DRAMATIC POEM. 



263 



Such as no King has e'er been honour' d with. 
On his ashes a Paradise shall bloom ! 

QUEEN. 

Thus did I hope to find you ! Truly this 

Was the grand object of his death ! He charg'd me 

To see his last will executed, and 

I shall fulfil the purport of the oath. 

In dying he bequeath'd one legacy — 

One more to me — I pledg'd my word to him — 

And — wherefore should I make a secret of it? 

He left his Carl to me — I will defy 

Appearances — before mankind no more 

Will stoop to tremble — I will be for once 

Courageous as a- friend. My heart shall speak. 

Call'd he our love a virtue? I believe him. 

And will my heart no more — 

CARLOS. 

Complete not, Queen, 
The sentence — I have long been sunken in 
A heavy dream. I lov'd — now I'm awaken'd. 
Let all the past be buried in oblivion ! 
Here are your letters back. Destroy you mine. 
Fear no more agitation on my part. 
'Tis past. A cleansing fire has purified 
All my existence. Buried in the tomb 
Of the deceas'd for ever lies my passion. 
No mortal feelings share this bosom more. 

(after a pause, grasping her hand) 
I came to take leave — mother, I find out 
At last, there is an object more sublime, 
More worthy of ambition, than to be 
Possess'd of you — One short night has giv'n wings 
To the inactive progress of my years, 
Has ripen'd me precociously to manhood. 
I have no other stimulant in life 
Than that his memory suggests ! By-gone 



264 



DON CARLOS, 



ACT V. 



Are all my summer dreams — 

(he approaches the Queen, who hides her face) 
Have you nought, mother, 

To say to me? 

QUEEN". 

Pay no attention, Carl, 
To these tears— 'tis my all— but yet believe me, 
You fill me with the highest admiration. 

CARLOS. 

You were our friendship's only confidante — 

Under this name vou always will remain 

The dearest object to me in this world. 

My friendship for you on another woman 

I can bestow as little, as I could 

My love e'en yesterday — the Royal widow 

Shall still be sacred to me, whensoever 

Providence places me upon this throne. 

(the King, accompanied by the Grand Inquisitor 

and his Grandees, appears in the back ground ww- 

observed) 

I now leave Spain — and see no more my father — 

No more in this life. 1 love him no more. 

Within my bosom nature is extinct — 

Be you his wife again. He has lost a son. 

Return you to your duties — / hasten 

To liberate my oppress'd people from 

A tyrant's hand. Madrid sees me again 

Only as King or never more. And now 

Our last farewell ! 

(he kisses her) 

QUEEN. 

O ! Carl ! What have you made me? — 

I cannot hope, not venture to aspire 

To raise myself to such a pitch of greatness, 

But comprehend you and admire I can. 

CARLOS. 

Am 1 not firm, Elizabeth? I hold 



SCENE XI. 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 



265 



You in my arms and waver not. The dread 
Of instant death had yesterday not torn 
Me from this spot. 

(he leaves her) 
But that is over. Now 
I bid defiance to all destiny 
Mortality is heir to. 1 have held 
You in my arms, and waver'd not. — Hush ! Hush ! 
Did you hear nothing? 

(a clock strikes) 

QUEEN. 

Nothing but the clock, 
The awful clock which knells our separation. 

CARLOS. 

Good night then, mother. You will have from Ghent 

A letter from me which will first explain 

The secret of our intercourse. I go, 

To enter publicly the lists against 

Don Philip now. Hereafter, I desire 

That there be nothing secret more between us. 

The eye of the world you need shun no more — 

Be this my last deceit. 

(he reaches for the mask. The King steps between them) 

KING. 

It is thy last. 
(the Queen Jails down fainting) 

CARLOS. 

(hastens towards her and receives her in his arms) 
Is she dead? O Heav'n and earth! 

KING. 

(coolly and quietly to the Grand Inquisitor) 
Cardinal ! 
I have done my part. Do you yours. 

(exit). 

THE END. 



Printed by J. J. Cowing, Bar net. 



ERRATA. 



Page 24, Line 2, for Plaza Major read Plaza Mayor. 

86, 4, for Cralos read Carlos. 

92, 5, for was e'en silent read e'en kept silence here ? 

185, 10, for be deserving read to be deserving. 

210, 3, for plan read plant, 

248, 11, for O'er looked read O'erlook'd. 



